Between You and Me
by feebee17
Summary: A sequel to The Waiting Room. Neil and Millie were happy with their friendship, but what happens when you add a baby, a new girlfriend, a dangerous but strangely alluring ex-lover and a boy on a mission to the mix? Mansillie friendship with OCs
1. Just Passing, Saw Your Light

**No one really lays claim to ownership of The Bill these days, including me.**

Neil was almost certain Millie was still up. There was a light on in her sitting room, and once or twice he thought he had caught a glimpse of a silhouette moving across the big front room window. But why would she be up at this hour? When he had decided to drive by on his way home from an evening out on the off chance she was still awake, he had really expected to find her house in darkness. He knew that as the mother of young baby, Millie generally hit the hay not long after Andrew went to bed. She had quickly learnt that it was wise to grab sleep while she could.

Neil checked his watch and saw it was now well after eleven. He couldn't bring himself to just drive away. The more he pondered the question of why she was up, the more he convinced himself that something was wrong. Maybe Andrew was sick and Millie was in need of help? Perhaps having the input of an experienced parent like his good self would be of some comfort to her? He reached out to open the car door, then stopped. A knock on the door at this hour might scare her. Best to call her first. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through to her number, then snapped the phone shut. What if the ringing phone disturbed Andrew, possibly just after his mother had got him off to sleep after many hours of trying? He wanted to help Millie, not make her angry.

He made a fist and punched the padding of his steering wheel in frustration. He had really wanted to talk to Millie tonight. For the first time in god knows how long he had been on a date, and he wanted to share this news with someone. Millie was probably the closest person to him, but she was a mother now and could no longer be at his beck and call. He knew that his imagining some sinister reason for her being up was in reality him manufacturing excuses to go in and talk to her. Millie most likely had no need of him. He was sure she could cope with whatever was happening. If she needed help, she'd have the sense to seek it for herself.

He put the key in the ignition and started the car. He'd been hanging around in his car deliberating for so long now, he'd be surprised if a neighbour hadn't seen him and thought he was some sort of stalker. All he needed now was for a car-load of Sun Hill's finest to turn up and find him loitering outside Millie's house. He knew too well what they would make of that.

Neil took a final glance up a the sitting room window before driving off, and was very glad he did. There was Millie, tapping the window and beckoning him to come in. Soon he was treading the path to her door. It was only when he started walking that he realised he had no idea what he was actually going to say to her. He had things to talk about, but how much was he really prepared to reveal? And would Millie be okay with what he had to tell her? He was sure they were both happy with their relationship the way it was, but does any woman really enjoy hearing a man extol the virtues of another member of her sex?

It was too late to turn back now. Millie was standing at the open door by the time Neil reached her front step.

Millie came to the door in her dressing gown and slippers. Her hair was spilling out of a loose bun, and from what Neil could see from the porch light, her face was relatively make up free. Considering she very definitely had not been expecting company, he thought, the smile she gave him was surprisingly welcoming.

"Neil, come in," she said in a hushed voice. "I knew it was your car I heard starting up! What brings you here this time of night?"

"I, um, was just driving by and I noticed the light. Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. I'm trying something new with Andrew in the hope of phasing out the 2am feed."

"Ah, now that brings back memories! You're giving him a top up feed so he won't get hungry and will sleep through, right?"

"That's the theory. Make yourself at home while I go get him from his cot."

Millie went down the darkened passageway to Andrew's room, while Neil walked through the sitting room and into the kitchen. He had visited Millie's new townhouse often enough to know where everything was kept. He looked in her refrigerator and smiled to himself at some of its contents. There were items there he had got very used to seeing in his own fridge while Millie had been living with him. Amongst the bottles of expressed milk he spotted the brand of yoghurt that she liked, plus one or two of her favourite treats. He felt it was a safe bet that hidden somewhere in the freezer there would be the mint chocolate chip ice cream she kept for those moments of special indulgence.

Seeing these things prompted him to think how much he actually missed having her around all the time. Even now, three months after Andrew's birth and Millie's brief relocation to her parents' place before her townhouse was ready, Neil still found himself arriving home expecting to see Millie sitting on his sofa. He even occasionally came across oddments that never would have made their way into his house if it hadn't been for Millie. That hair straighter he found in what had been her bathroom, for instance. Not the type of thing either he or Jake had any use for. The way she'd left her mark on his house by leaving things lying around it somehow endeared her to him.

These happy thoughts were soon ended by the sound of Millie's footsteps returning from the bedroom. He poured a couple of glasses of orange juice and made his way back to meet Millie in the sitting room.

Millie sat herself down in the chair she found most comfortable for breastfeeding. She looked down at her sleeping baby, who was wriggling ever so slightly, content even in his sleep at the sensation of being nestled safely in his mother's arms. Neil gave Andrew's head a pat and then quickly searched for something on the other side of the room to focus on as Millie loosened the front of her robe and then undid her top and maternity bra to allow Andrew access to her breast. Still half asleep, Andrew latched on and started to suck heartily.

Millie's eyes moved back and forth between watching her son feed and observing Neil's reaction to it. Neil's discomfort at seeing her breastfeed amused her no end. It had come as a complete surprise to her, and indeed, to Neil himself. When Andrew had been born, Millie had asked Neil what his views were on her breastfeeding her son in front of Jake. After a few moments deliberation, Neil voiced his view that it was a natural process and he had no problem with it, but he supposed they should gauge Jake's reaction before making any hard and fast ruling on the matter. So they had done just that. One time when the three of them were sitting together, Millie undid her top and started feeding her son. Jake hadn't batted an eyelid. He didn't watch the process with an inappropriate level of interest, nor did he behave uncomfortably interacting with Millie while she was feeding. Neil and Millie agreed that experiment was a success and Millie felt reassured that feeding her child was not going to be an issue when the Mansons visited.

Even though Millie had considered that Jake might not be comfortable with her feeding, it never occurred to her that Neil himself could be awkward with it. During Jake's introduction to breastfeeding, Neil had placed all his attention on his son, and hadn't paid any heed to Millie or what she was doing. But once Neil was seated opposite a breastfeeding Millie without Jake as a distraction he was noticeably uncomfortable. His reaction perplexed and annoyed him. Dash it all, he'd seen many mothers suckling babies before, but for some reason when Millie did it, it was different. It was as if when their relationship had settled comfortably into the realm of platonic, Neil had constructed an arbitrary barrier between what behaviours were acceptable in their friendship and what weren't. And exposure of body parts was one of the behaviours that crossed over that line. He had been barred from the birthing suite when Andrew was born for that reason. Whatever the cause of his unease, Neil simply couldn't bring himself to even inadvertently glance at that region of Millie's body without feeling the colour rise in his cheeks. The worst part about it was that his awkwardness was apparent to everyone. Millie saw it and felt sorry for him, but the overabundance of milk she was producing made foregoing feeding her son when it was necessary just to protect Neil's modesty nearly impossible. So, she simply fed him as she saw fit.

So once again Neil sat opposite Millie and her babe, desperately searching the room for something he could rest his gaze on. As much as Millie loved Neil and was interested in what he had to say, she only wanted to spare him as much of her time as it took to feed Andrew that evening. Staying up talking to Neil would defeat the purpose of her trying to get Andrew to sleep through.

"So, why are you out at this time of night? Working late?" Millie asked by way of a conversation opener.

Neil nodded. "The day did finish late, yes."

"But there's more to it than that, isn't there?" probed Millie. "So, tell me, what's else has kept you out so late?"

Neil was by nature a man of few words, so rather than pour out his heart and fill Millie in on every detail, he cut to the chase. "Grace," he said simply.

"Grace?" said Millie, her eyebrows hovering midway up her forehead for quite some time. "I see…Well, I can't say I'm surprised. So what happened? Did you ask her out then?"

Neil's eyes made their way to the floor in front of him. "Yes," he replied.

Millie knew Neil well enough to realise that if she wanted the blanks of Neil's conversation filled, she'd largely have to do it herself. "Emotional case, was it? She in need of a little comfort?"

"Murdered child," responded Neil.

"Oh," Millie's eyes brimmed with tears, the way they always seemed to do these days at the idea of anything happening to children.

"I found it all a bit too close to home, after Jake and everything," admitted Neil.

"Of course you did. So Grace was comforting you then?"

"Not as such. More having a go at me for not having let her comfort me while Jake was sick, actually."

Millie knew Neil's not confiding in Grace was largely down to his relationship with her. Especially during the time of Jake's recovery, she and Neil had spent most of their spare time supporting each other through their respective crises. Well, Millie's pregnancy wasn't so much a crisis, but having Neil around had certainly helped her get through it.

"Well, I can understand her feeling left out. After all, she's always liked you."

Neil looked up without thinking - only to catch Millie in the act of shifting Andrew from one of her breasts to the other, thus allowing him a full view of both breasts. That, and the idea that Millie thought Grace had always liked him made him blush bright scarlet.

"Really?" he said stupidly.

"Oh yes, and you've always liked her too, haven't you?" said Millie playfully. She was grinning ear to ear at the knowledge that she wasn't the only person who could blush so spectacularly.

"I've always admired her intelligence, yes," he conceded bashfully, before allowing himself a small chuckle in response to Millie's teasing. "But actually, I don't recall you and her ever being in the same room while I've been there. How do you know what she and I think of each other?"

"Well, I have seen the two of you together in passing, and apart from that, from what Max tells me, she's a bit of a pet with you."

Millie regretted those words as soon as she spoke them. _Damn_, thought Millie, _why did I mention Max?_

Millie's self-chastisement was justified, because as soon as Millie quoted Max, Neil bristled up.

"So that's what Max thinks, eh? Well, perhaps if his attitude was a little more like Grace's…"

"Okay, sorry Neil. Forget I said that. I don't really put much trust in what Max says. We all know he can be a bit of a bitch sometimes."

Neil was cheered considerably that Millie had selected a very female derogatory term to describe Max.

"Don't worry. I know Max well enough to guess his motivations, and I know you well enough to know you were being facetious. Now, I see Andrew's ready for bed again."

During the last part of their discussion, Andrew's little mouth had released Millie's nipple as his desire for food had been sated and his desire for sleep had come once again to the fore. Much to Neil's relief, Millie was now completely covered and he had no reason to avert his eyes.

"Yes, he is," whispered Millie, as she stroked her son's cheek gently with her finger. "I'd best take him to his cot now."

"And get to bed yourself, too, I should think," said Neil, rising to assist Millie in getting out of her chair while cradling her son.

"Thanks Neil, yes, I suppose I should. I presume you're working tomorrow?"

"I am indeed."

"So it's bedtime for you as well. That is, if you're able to sleep after all the excitement. You may want to go home, grab a hair brush and belt out a few love songs."

"Very funny, You. Look, I'll talk to you on the weekend, okay? Jake's returning tomorrow night, so perhaps we'll drop by on Saturday."

"That'd be lovely. I'll try to make sure Max isn't around then…"

"Don't rearrange things on our account," said Neil. He leant forward and kissed Millie on the cheek. "Now, take your son to bed. I'll see myself out. Good night Millie."

"Night Neil," Millie said, as she carried Andrew to his room. She placed him in his cot and tiptoed out, crossing her fingers he wouldn't wake now until six.

Millie walked to the front door to put the chain on it. She moved the curtain and watched as Neil's car pulled away from the kerb. So, Neil was seeing Grace! Good on him! She was so very happy for him.

At least she told herself she was…


	2. Earlier That Day

**A/N Thanks Firebird :)**

(i)

DS Max Carter and DC Terry Perkins sat together in the car in silence. Neither man had much to say to the other these days. Terry found it hard to endure Max's smugness at repeatedly worming his way out of confessing his cocaine habit to DI Manson, and Max didn't want to have to listen to another one of Terry's lectures on that subject. But today they had been assigned the same case and had no choice but to work together. Their very minimal conversation was kept strictly to business and the rest of the time they did their best to ignore each other.

DC Mickey Webb opened the back door of the car and climbed in.

"Right, I've got an update," he said. "Looks like things are kicking off at 1500hrs. That gives us roughly…twelve minutes to wait."

"Good, I'll let the DI know," said Max, reaching for his phone.

While Max filled in the DI, Terry turned to look at Mickey in the back seat. The two men said nothing, but Max was left in no doubt their look had to do with him. They were after all the only people at Sun Hill who knew about his cocaine use. To his knowledge at least.

Max was about to put his phone back in his pocket when a call came through. He saw it was Millie. He paused to decide if he should answer. He was kind of busy. But then she could be calling to tell him Andrew was sick, or had had an accident. If that were the case he wanted to know immediately. In the few short months of his life, Andrew had become Max's number one priority.

"I'd better get this," he said to Terry and Mickey, who nodded. "Hey, what's up?"

"Max, it's Millie. I hope I didn't get you at a bad time."

"I'm on an obbo actually. Anything wrong?"

"Oh, sorry. No, nothing's wrong. It's just that Andrew rolled over for the first time, and, well, I wanted to share it with, um, his father."

Max didn't quite know how impressive an accomplishment this was, but anything his son did filled him with a sense of pride. "That's a good thing, right?"

"Actually, at his age, it puts him into the 'Advanced' category."

"Really?" Max even cracked a smile. Terry and Mickey exchanged another look.

Max went on, "Look, I'm glad you called me. Maybe I'll call by and see him - and you - when I finish here. Is that okay?"

"That's fine Max. I'll see you then."

"Bye Millie."

Max rejoined Terry and Mickey in their silent vigil. They still had five minutes until 1500hrs.

"Okay," said Terry eventually. "Spit it out. What did Andrew do?"

"He rolled over," said Max. "Millie reckons that's advanced for his age."

"How old is he?" asked Terry.

"He's three months old."

"Yeah I reckon she's right. Congratulations." There was no sarcasm in Terry's voice. He was a father too, and he wasn't about to begrudge Max his pride in his son.

"Thanks," said Max, who hadn't expected this reaction from Terry.

"How are you and Millie getting on?" asked Mickey.

"Well, really," said Max.

"No chance of anything happening there?" Mickey continued.

Max shrugged. "Never say never."

Terry focused on cleaning his fingernails with a paperclip he'd dismembered earlier and said casually, "I suppose there wouldn't be any chance of anything happening with Millie if she knew about your, ah, habit?"

Max bristled up. "Why? You threatening to tell her?"

"Not my place to," said Terry, wiping some fingernail gunk off the end of the paperclip. "Still, you've got to feel sorry for her, thinking you're the perfect father and all."

"Come on Terry, everyone knows you claimed that title long ago," Max retaliated.

The expression that flashed across Terry's face suggested he was about to bite back, but instead he returned his attention to his manicure. "I just feel sorry for the poor girl, that's all."

Max said nothing. Millie deserve pity? Terry had no idea about her at all. Max thought how Millie wouldn't go threatening to reveal his addiction to the DI unless she meant it.

Max's phone rang again and this time it was the DI. It was time for them to move.

Once they were back at the station, Max raced off immediately, leaving Mickey and Terry to tie up the loose ends.

"How does he do it, eh?" wondered Mickey. "He gets all the glory while we do all the work! Ten minutes, he'll be home in front of the telly while we're stuck here writing up reports and eating soggy pizza!"

"I'll tell you how he does it," replied Terry, as the pushed open the doors to CID. "He knocked up the DI's girlfriend."

Grace was sitting at her desk and overheard Terry say 'the DI's girlfriend'. That was news to her.

"Has the DI got himself a girlfriend?" she commented innocently.

Terry patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Don't panic, Grace. We were talking about Millie."

"Oh, right," said Grace, irritated that Terry had assumed she was jealous. She was also annoyed they called Millie Neil's girlfriend, even though it was pretty close to the truth. She knew from experience there wasn't much room close to Neil while Millie was on the scene.

(ii)

It was no surprise to Max that Millie vehemently disapproved of his continued drug use. But he was surprised, and grateful, that she didn't use it as an excuse to keep Andrew away from him, nor did she threaten to. Millie was by nature generous in her opinions of people and refused to see Max as a lost cause. And the extent of Max's love for Andrew had been clear to her as soon as she had placed their new born son into Max's arms (after she had had the first cuddle). Perhaps, she reasoned, Andrew was just what Max needed to go straight again? So she let Max visit Andrew as often as he liked, with certain provisions she had laid down to him in no uncertain terms. He was never to visit Andrew with drugs in his system. He was never to visit Andrew with cocaine anywhere on his person. He was never to wear clothes he wore when taking or buying cocaine. How many times had they seen children accidentally find and ingest their parent's drugs and either die or suffer brain damage from it? Did he really want to run the risk of doing something like that to his son?

No, he agreed, he didn't. Max saw the wisdom in abiding by her rules. And he appreciated that she had stopped short of being sanctimonious about it or turning it into a moral issue. He got enough of that from Terry Perkins. And so, each time he saw Andrew he would force himself to stay straight until the visit was over and he had returned to his own home. Then he would be free to wallow in his misery for the evening, or go on the town in search of someone to help him wile away his empty hours.

This evening, Millie answered the door then retreated to the kitchen to make coffee while Max headed to the sitting room. Andrew was lying on the floor in there, wriggling happily on his tummy. Max lay down on the floor beside him and Andrew looked at him and smiled. Nothing on earth could compare to that feeling that Andrew recognised him and was happy to see him. If only that feeling of elation weren't overshadowed by the reality that too soon he would have to leave.

Maybe his mother was right. Maybe he should have asked Millie to marry him when he found out she was pregnant. It wasn't like they were enemies or didn't find each other attractive. And, if it hadn't worked out, they could have been married when Andrew was born and divorced soon afterwards. An ex-husband would surely have more say in things than a mere 'one night stand'.

Millie brought Max his coffee and went off to 'take care of a few things'. She was always conscious of allowing Max as much time alone with his son as possible.

As Andrew's bedtime approached, she returned but paused in the door way and watched as father and son played. She wished she didn't have to disturb them, as they both looked so happy. She thought how no one at Sun Hill would believe her if she told them how relaxed and playful Max was with his son.

Max sat on the sofa with Andrew in his arms, beaming as he watched his son's tiny digits curling around his own finger. At moments like this he had to wonder what the point of his life was before his son was born. Andrew somehow made every ambition he'd ever had, every criminal he'd ever put behind bars, every woman he'd ever desired and seduced, seem like a trivial waste of his time.

The sound of the camera clicking brought Max back to earth. He looked up at Millie and frowned. While he appreciated her recording his interactions with his son and would probably pore over the resulting photo later on his own, he resented her intrusion into his special time with Andrew. She had Andrew all day and night. All Max got with him were a few stolen hours here and there.

Millie checked out the shot. "Oh, this is a lovely one!" she said, poking the camera in front of Max. "You know, I think I might get it framed."

Max squinted at the camera and scowled again. He hated photos of himself. And more than that, he hated to see that she had been able to catch him so off guard. But nevertheless, she was right. Andrew looked adorable, he didn't look hideous and the bond between father and son really shone through.

He reminded himself it was wise to keep Millie on side. "Maybe you could frame a copy for me, too?"

"Sure," smiled Millie, before adding mischievously, "You can put it on your desk at work. I can get you a frame that says 'I Love My Daddy'."

Max felt his shoulders stiffen. "Maybe just give me the photo and I'll frame it myself."

Millie laughed gleefully, "Gotcha! Honestly, is that the type of thing I'd do?"

Max reflected that the sweet, simple Millie he had lured to his lair and seduced with the aid of a small amount of cocaine probably would. This new Super Mum Millie…he wasn't so sure.

He could tell she was waiting for him to laugh, so he did. "Right. You got me," he said.

Millie grinned and turned her attention back to the baby. "He's starting to look sleepy. Better give him to me now for his feed."

She sat down on the couch beside Max and he carefully placed Andrew into her arms. He peered down again at Andrew and watched him close his eyes as he drank.

"He's hungry tonight," he commented.

"Seems to be," Millie responded. "Rather tired too. I don't think he'll be awake much longer."

Max had none of Neil's hang ups about Millie breastfeeding in front of him; in fact he actually enjoyed watching his son sate his not inconsiderable hunger. Sitting with Millie while she fed Andrew, he could almost believe they were a real family unit. He felt connected not just to his son but with his child's mother as well. He saw the serene look on her face as she nourished their babe at her breast, so calm, so comfortable in her role. She somehow made him think everything that was worrying him would sort itself out.

"You know what, Millie?" he said softly, "I don't think Andrew could have a better mother."

The coy smile on Millie's lips and the pinkish tinge that came to her cheeks made Max almost tempted to kiss her. But Millie was intent on returning his compliment

"And you know what, Max? I really doubt he could have a better father."

Her comment pleased Max even if he couldn't believe it.

"I know there are at least some things about me you don't approve of," Max said.

"True," replied Millie. "But I have every faith that you can – and will – change those things. You may not have done them for your own sake, but I think you'll do them for Andrew."

Max hoped he was giving a convincing enough impression of someone being appreciative of a friend's support. But he didn't believe a word of it, and he doubted she did either. He felt he had no control of any aspect of his life at the moment: not his addiction, not his work life, and certainly not his relationship with his son. All of these things depended on the whims of other people. But at least he could reassure himself that Millie seemed committed to giving him a chance.

"Thanks," was all he said.

Millie looked sadly at Max. She was convinced he could bring himself back from the brink, but he had a long way to go yet. She just had to keep building his confidence in the meantime.

"Look," she whispered. "Our little fellow's drifted off and needs to be put into his cot. Do you want to carry him?"

"I'd love to," said Max jumping up and tenderly lifting Andrew out of Millie's arms. The two of them walked down to Millie's bedroom to where Andrew's cot was. After Max laid him down, both parents kissed him good night, and then stood together and adoringly watched their sleeping son. Max reached out a hand to Millie, and she took it and held it for a moment. She let if fall as soon as they started their way towards the door.

_That's interesting,_ thought Max.

"I suppose I'd better go," he said, in such a way that suggested he didn't really want to.

"Yes, I want to try and get some sleep before waking Andrew to give him a late night feed. With any luck, we'll have him sleeping through until morning soon," Millie replied, opening the door for him.

"Well, good luck with that," Max said, turning to Millie and trying to catch hold of that hand again.

Millie put her hands behind her back and tried to pretend she was unaware of what had just happened. Max noticed this and an idea started to form in his head.

"So," he said. "Does Neil Manson kiss you good bye?"

"Yes," Millie jumped in quickly, wrongly thinking Max would take this to mean that she liked Neil better than she liked him.

But to Max it just confirmed that the friendly feelings she had for Neil were entirely different to whatever feelings she had for him. And that, he thought, was promising. His idea was now turning into a plan. And he told himself it wasn't a selfish plan; it was what was best for him and Andrew, and for Millie as well. And it might just shut that Terry Perkins up into the bargain…

"Good night Millie," he said, deciding it was best to leave it at that for the time being.

"Good night," said Millie as she closed the door behind him. She thought to herself that nothing had changed. She was still a fool for Max Carter.

And later that night, when Neil Manson had driven past her house, she was still awake, wondering what the future held for her, Andrew and Max.


	3. The Visit to Sun Hill

The sound of Max's phone woke him the following morning. He squinted beyond it to his clock. Damn! He'd slept in. The woman in the bed beside him turned languidly at the sound of the phone, but clearly wasn't considering getting up. What was her name again? The only thing Max could clearly remember from last night was that he'd started talking to her because she had red hair...

He presumed the call was from work, but when he checked the name on the screen he saw it was Millie. He gulped down some water, gave his face a quick 'wake up' slap and answered the call.

"Yeah?" he croaked.

"Max, oh sorry, did I wake you? I thought you'd be up for work already."

"I slept in actually, so it's just as well you rang. What's up?"

"Well, I thought I'd run something by you. A few people at Sun Hill have been nagging me about bringing Andrew in to see them, and I was thinking of making today that day. How do you feel about that?"

Max smirked to himself. Funny how sometimes things just fell into place! This suited his plans to perfection.

"That would be great. I was going to call you anyway. I have something I want to discuss with you."

"All right. I'll be there around 1030."

"Call me when you arrive."

"I will. See you then."

"I'm looking forward to it," Max said.

Millie felt herself blush as she hung up. What did Max mean when he said that? And why did it sound suggestive? She told herself she was yet again reading too much into what for Max was probably just a throw away line. While she pondered Max's strange behaviour, she called Neil to see if he'd be around this morning. He said yes, and to make sure she popped up to CID to say hello.

Once the taxi had dropped Millie and Andrew at Sun Hill, she sent a text to both Max and Neil.

Max scowled as he saw Neil Manson making his move from his office. His determined effort to get to Millie first was thwarted by Bansky stopping him to ask about a case. He watched helplessly as Neil started down the stairs.

Neil took a quick look over his shoulder and chuckled. In addition to the sheer pleasure of getting one up on Max, he really wanted to see Millie before she spoke to anyone else from Sun Hill. He had forgotten to ask her not to mention about him and Grace to anyone.

Neil greeted Millie at the door. Low level murmurs arose from the desk staff when they exchanged a kiss.

"Don't say anything about Grace," was the first thing Neil said to her.

"As if I would!" said Millie with dancing eyes that caused Neil more than just a little concern.

"Millie!" he scolded in his best DI's voice.

"Don't worry. My lips are sealed," said Millie, not sounding entirely convincing.

"Max was held up by work in case you're wondering," added Neil. "Do you want to wait for him? We can go in this interview room." Neil opened the door and ushered Millie in.

"I really should wait for Max. I don't want to steal his thunder in terms of showing off his son. It is his work place after all. Not really mine anymore."

"You know, I really have to admire the way you, and Max too I suppose, are making a go of this co-parenting business. You could really teach me and Pippa a thing or two."

Millie shrugged, "Maybe it's easier when there's no emotional issues between the two parents. You and Pippa have gone from being a couple to leading separate lives. And she's got a new husband of course. But then, who knows, you might not be single too much longer..."

Neil made a face. "I thought you'd agreed not to mention Grace."

Millie laughed. "I didn't mention her! But how interesting that you presumed that's who I meant."

Neil looked embarrassed. But, the damage to his pride was done now, and he might as well take advantage of this time alone with Millie to ask her something.

"Moving right along, can I get your opinion as a woman?"

"As a woman? You got a wig and a dress hidden away there..."

"Oh, ha ha! Right, sorry for my clumsy phrasing. Will you, as a woman, offer me your opinion on something, please?"

"Go on."

"The other night with Grace, well, we just grabbed a quick take away and sat on a park bench, and I wondered if it would be the done thing for me to ask her out on a proper date next time."

Millie nodded decisively. "Yes it would."

"Would I appear over-eager if I asked her out this Saturday night?"

Millie mulled this over. "Well, you're both mature adults. You know how these things work. I think that would be fine."

Neil paused and sighed, "Shame Jake's staying with me this weekend, then."

He gave Millie an entreating look.

"Are you asking if Jake can come and visit tomorrow night while you work your evil magic on Grace?" she asked.

"Yep," replied Neil unashamedly.

Millie was a bit surprised at his cockiness. "You want him to stay with me over night?"

"Bit soon for that, eh?" he queried.

"Probably," affirmed Millie. "So, what does Jake know about Grace?"

"Nothing at this stage. And if you don't mind, I'd rather keep it that way until I'm sure where things stand with her, okay?"

"Sure," said Millie.

"And I hope it goes without saying, not a word must be breathed about this to Max until I say so. No matter where your relationship with him may lead you in the meantime?"

Millie was almost indignant. "You understand, don't you, there's nothing going on with me and Max?"

"I know there's nothing going on at the moment. But..."

"But what?"

"I see you getting closer to him all the time. And it seems he's getting quite possessive of you. He was virtually racing me to get down to see you."

"But you won?"

"Yes I did."

"Lucky for both of us then."

"You may laugh, but just take care with him. Okay Millie?"

"Neil, I'm a big girl now. I can look after myself, you know."

Neil still didn't trust Millie's judgment where Max Carter was concerned, but he left it at that.

A knock on the door announced the arrival of Millie's old friends from uniform. They crowded around her and Andrew.

"Well, little Andrew's certainly got your hair," said a chuffed Roger as he cradled Millie's babe in his arms.

Millie rolled her eyes. "Thanks for pointing that out, Rodge!"

Jo Masters immediately noted Andrew's reaction to Neil.

"He sure knows you, Guv," she commented, tickling Andrew under the chin.

"Ah, well, as you know Jo, Millie and I are good friends," said Neil. It was just dawning on him that his friendship with Millie could serve to throw everyone, especially the all-seeing Jo, off the scent of him and Grace. The glimmer he noted in Millie's eyes suggested she had already sussed out his new strategy.

"You're a father figure for him then?" Leon suggested.

"He has a very good father already," stated Millie automatically, her focus being on Roger as he passed Andrew over to Mel.

"Thank you," said Max, entering the room.

A buzz of excitement spread amongst the relief as the rumour that Max was Millie's baby's father was at last officially confirmed.

"How about we show him off to CID now?" said Max. He gently lifted Andrew from the arms of a clearly disappointed Mel, who had only just got to hold him.

"If you like," replied Millie. "Good to see you all," she said addressing her uniform colleagues. "I'll come say good bye before I leave."

Millie climbed the stairs with Max (who was carrying Andrew) and Neil either side of her. Jo Masters laughed to herself as she watched the two men's obvious competition to, she presumed, claim ownership of Millie by being the most useful to her.

"But is all that attention a blessing or a curse?" she mumbled.

Nate slapped his forehead with the palm of her hand. "How could she be stupid enough to get herself pregnant to DS Carter?"

It was time for Jo to play sergeant again. "Oi, you there! After reading the report you turned in yesterday, I wouldn't be so quick to call your fellow officers stupid! Now, back to work!"

Neil and Max each held one of the swinging doors into CID open for Millie, making her entrance seem a grand one. An excited Stevie Moss was the first person to rush over to check out the bundle in Max's arms and beg for a turn at holding him. Max gruffly obliged.

Stevie sat herself on a desk and held out a finger for Andrew to grab.

"Hello little fella," she murmured. "Br-up, brup, brup! Guys, come and check him out!"

Banksy, Mickey and Terry gathered around and made the customary appreciative noises. Grace, meanwhile, was pretending to keep herself busy at the desk.

"I think he looks like you, Millie," said Mickey.

"Yeah, he's far too good looking to take after Max," agreed Terry.

"He's boo-ti-ful, aren't you Andwew?" said Stevie, rubbing her nose against his.

"You better not have a cold," protested Max. He was pleased that his son was being appreciated, but Stevie always took things too far.

"I don't," Stevie assured him. "Grace, you have to come and see him. What does Jake think of him, Guv?"

Stevie's question and the way it implied an intimacy between Neil and Millie annoyed Max, embarrassed Millie and left Neil momentarily frozen. It was one thing to play up his and Millie's closeness to Uniform, but how should he play it in front of Grace? It didn't escape his attention, or Millie's, that Grace had been in the process of finally getting up the nerve to come over, only to stop in her tracks at the mention of Jake.

But what could he say, really? Millie and Andrew were part of his and Jake's lives, and if Grace were going to be too, she would have to get used to it.

"Jake can't do enough for him. All of his cousins are older than him, so he's enjoying having a...playmate that he can impart the wisdom of his years to," Neil smiled.

"Here, Grace, do you want to hold him?" Millie's invitation was an attempt to make it known to Grace that she wasn't going to stand in the way of anything happening between her and Neil. However, Grace interpreted it as Millie trying to show up Grace's lack of parenting skills in front of Neil, and she was thrown by it.

"Of course she does," Stevie bundled Andrew into Grace's arms, catching Grace by surprise. If she did have any experience handling children this young, her awkwardness at taking holding of Andrew completely belied that fact.

"Gee, Grace! Haven't you ever seen a baby before? Don't you think you take this old maid thing a bit far?" scoffed Max unkindly.

Millie saw the position she had put Grace in, and quickly sought to make it right. She administered a sharp elbow to Max's ribs, and said, "Go easy, Max. She wasn't expecting to have a baby thrust upon her. See, she's perfectly comfortable with it now."

Andrew had smiled at Grace when laid in her arms, which, along with Millie standing up for her against Max had given Grace a boost of confidence. She smiled over Andrew at Millie to let her know she appreciated the gesture.

Neil watched the interaction between the two women and gave a small inward cheer.

Banksy's phone rang and he waved Max over to update him on their case. Neil and Stevie cooed over Andrew as he squirmed around in Grace's arms, leaving Millie with Mickey and Terry. She didn't know either of these men especially well, and wondered what to say.

Having had an unhappy and traumatic childhood himself, Terry couldn't help but worry about the effects of his father being a drug addict on Andrew. He seized this opportunity to have a precautionary word to Millie.

"So, how's Max shaping up as a father?" he asked her quietly.

Millie thought this was an odd question. It caused her to be immediately protective of Max. "He's doing really brilliantly, thanks!" she said brightly.

Terry could see she was being defensive. Or maybe she just didn't know the full situation? For the sake of the child, it was time someone told its mother the truth.

"Millie, you might think it's not my place to say, but I wouldn't be placing quite as much trust in Max as you appear to be."

Millie stiffened. "Thanks Terry. You're right, it's not really your place, and you know, although Max and I aren't a couple, I think I still probably know him quite a bit better than you do," she replied politely.

Terry rubbed his chin. The message obviously wasn't getting through. Well, Millie had always had a reputation of being too trusting…

Time for a dose of the truth. "Millie, listen. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but there's something you might not know about Max. A few months ago now, Mickey and I found him with some dru…"

"Terry," Millie interrupted, determined to end this conversation before anyone else, especially Neil, wondered what was being said. "I appreciate what you're trying to do. But all I have to say on the matter is that I know Max very well, and I don't think you could tell me anything I don't already know. I know you're concerned, but I know what I'm doing. Now, I'd better get back to my son."

She turned and made her way towards the others.

"Do you mind if I take Andrew and feed him now?" Millie smiled at Grace and held out her arms for her son.

"Of course not," mumbled Grace, carefully passing Andrew back to his mother. "Thanks Millie. He's lovely. He really is."

The two women smiled at each other.

"Come on, you can use my office," said Neil, leading Millie and a now available Max to his door. He closed the blinds to ensure Millie's privacy.

Max was anxious for Neil to leave, not just because he wanted to make it plain to Neil that he wasn't a member of their family, but also so he and Millie could talk in private. "You're not staying here while Millie's feeding, are you Sir,? Oh, how silly of me, of course you're not. Freaks you out too much doesn't it?"

Neil paused at the open door. He hoped the rest of CID hadn't overheard Max's comment.

"I'll leave you to it," he said as he shut the door behind him.

Millie sat on a chair with Andrew and started to prepare herself to feed him.

"Can I get you something? A drink?" asked Max.

"Thanks. There's a bottle of water in the nappy bag, if you can get that."

Max rummaged through the bag and found the water. He sat himself on the desk near Millie and Andrew.

"So," said Millie. "You said you wanted to talk something over with me?"

"Yeah," said Max, pleased that she'd introduced the subject. Now, to make sure he didn't look too self-satisfied as he spoke.

"I've been thinking," Max began solemnly. "I've been thinking about everything - but mostly fatherhood, and what it means to my life. You know there are certain aspects of my behaviour that could, well, jeopardise the things that are most important to me; namely my job and Andrew and you." Max glanced at Millie to check that his adding her to the list had registered with her and was gratified to see she was blushing. Bingo!

"Anyway," he continued. "I think I need to do something to change my lifestyle for all our sakes. So, I made up my mind last night that today I would ask your mate Neil for a few weeks' leave to try and sort myself out. Maybe I could even look into rehab. What do you think?"

Hearing that Max was ready to do something about his drug habit thrilled Millie no end. "I think that's wonderful! Well done!" she exclaimed.

"Of course…in that time, I'll probably be needing a lot of support. So, if it's okay, I'd like to try and spend a bit more time than I have been with you and Andrew. Being with you helps take my mind off the drugs, helps me to stay straight…"

"Max, whatever you like! I'm with you a hundred percent. Andrew is my first priority, but I will do whatever I can to help you."

Max stood up and kissed Millie's cheek.

"Thanks. You're the only friend I've made Sun Hill, you know that? And you really are a true one."

Millie found she was blushing again. "My pleasure. Now, I'd better get out of your way so you can speak to Neil. Let me know how you go."

"Oh, I will. You'll be the first person I call. Don't you worry."


	4. Max's Leave

(i)

Terry Perkins returned to his desk and opened up a case file with a view to double checking a few details about said case. It was boring work, and he found himself on the lookout for some form of distraction. That came when he glanced out the window to see Max escorting Andrew and Millie out. He watched as Max stood and waved as the taxi drove off. No doubt about it, thought Terry, Max played the role of doting dad very competently. Terry just wished that Millie could see through it as clearly as he did. He thought back to his attempt to talk to Millie about Max during her visit. If it had simply been a matter of warning Millie not to trust Max for her own sake, he could have told himself he had done what he could and leave it at that. But there was a child's life at stake here. Why didn't she see that? Could he have made his point any clearer than he did?

Terry's analysis of this was brought to an end by the appearance of Grace Dasari, who was just leaving DI Manson's office. Nothing unusual about that in itself, however Terry happened to catch a glimpse of Grace's face as she passed him, and noted something different about it. Cool, cerebral, detached Grace was looking somehow _girlish; _there was no other way to describe it. And did he detect a pinkness about her cheeks, like she was blushing?

But that train of thought was also derailed when Terry sensed the lingering presence of Max Carter at the side of his desk. Terry ignored him at first but then realised that Max wasn't going away.

"Sarge," Terry said. "Can I help you?"

Max picked up a pen from Terry's desk to fiddle with.

"Yes, actually. Could I, um, have a word with you? In private?"

Terry closed the case file. This was much more intriguing. "Sure. Let's go into one of the interview rooms."

The two men walked to an empty room and shut the door behind them.

Terry found Max's behaviour odd. But three years of working with Max had taught Terry not to trust him, so he wondered if perhaps this nervousness was all for show. He nonchalantly crossed his arms and leant back against the table.

"Okay Max. I'm listening."

Max combed his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. Only then did he raise his eyes to meet Terry's.

"Terry," said Max. "I've been thinking about what you've been saying."

Terry worked his gum hard while he considered Max's statement.

"About what in particular?" he asked.

Terry's detachment was annoying Max, who had expected more of a reaction from Terry. His nostrils flared slightly, but his flash of anger soon passed. He knew he had to keep his cool.

"I think you know what," he replied.

"You mean your drug addiction?"

"I think the word you want is 'use', Terry. I'm not an addict."

Terry shrugged. "Call it what you want. Anyway, what have you been thinking?"

Max took another deep breath. "I've been thinking, now I'm a father, I need to do something about it."

Max glanced up at Terry to gauge his response, but apart from a slight raising of one eyebrow, Terry's expression didn't change.

"Good. That's the first step. Any idea what exactly you're going to do?"

"I guess I'll take some time off to straighten myself out."

"Spoken to the DI yet?"

"I'm just about to."

Terry nodded. "Right. You do realise, don't you, that this could spell the end of your career?"

Max put his hands on his hips and threw his head back. The hand travelled through his hair again. "I know. But what else can I do? Andrew's more important to me than my job."

Terry suspected most of Max's gestures and grandiose statements were made for dramatic effect. He supposed he in turn should act supportive. "I have to say Max, it took me a lot longer than three months to realise that about my kids. Well done."

"Thanks. Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know what was going on."

Terry stood up and patted Max on the back.

"Good luck with the DI, Max. Let me know how you go, eh?"

"Sure."

Max stood at the doorway and let Terry pass through first. As he turned to shut the door behind him, he thought to himself, _some things were just too fucking easy…_

(ii)

Neil Manson was leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, smiling. Grace had said yes! It was amazing to him that a man such as himself, at the staid and venerable age of forty, could pin so much importance on whether or not a girl that he fancied accepted his invitation to dinner. But here he was, over the moon! It had all been a lot simpler than he expected. Grace had come into his office to ask him about a work matter, and the conversation had evolved from there to a few brief comments about how adorable Andrew was, until Neil felt comfortable enough to pop his question. And she hadn't even hesitated. This was shaping up to be quite a weekend for Neil. Time with his son, a night out with the first woman he'd met in a long time with whom he'd consider having a serious relationship, and then the debrief with Millie once the date had taken place. He felt like a very lucky man.

His soaring spirit was brought down from the heavens by a knock on his door. He wondered hopefully if perhaps it could be Grace again.

"Come," he called.

His high hopes well and truly plummeted back to ground level when he saw Max Carter at his door. It felt like the only reason Max entered any sphere of his life, whether it be here at work or his personal life in the form of his relationship with Millie, was to cause him trouble and stress in some way. He wondered what doom and gloom Max was bringing with him this time.

"Good morning, Max," said Neil, clinging to the positivity of his mood. "Andrew made quite an impression this morning, eh? Not that I'm surprised, of course. He is very impressive."

This wasn't the welcome Max had expected and it threw him. "Err, thanks. Guv, I wanted a word with you if that's okay."

"Go ahead," replied Neil, still vainly hoping that his remaining cheerful would counteract the curse of misery Max inevitably brought with him.

"I think I need some time off," said Max simply.

Neil clasped his hands together and tapped his mouth with his extended index fingers. "Okay. As a new father, you're certainly entitled to it. Any particular reason for it, other than Andrew? I did notice you used the word 'need' there."

That he might be entitled to paternal leave hadn't even entered Max's head. He was almost regretting having gone through all the rigmarole of talking to Terry. Still, it was probably best to cover all his bases.

"Andrew's the main reason, but actually, with you spending so much time with Jake - and Millie - these past months, there was a lot of extra responsibility falling my way. I guess I'm feeling burnt out."

Neil flinched slightly when Max had mentioned Jake, and more so when he'd added Millie to the equation. Max always had to get his dig in, didn't he?

"I see. Effective immediately?" Neil found the thought of getting Max off his hands straight away was an appealing one.

"If possible."

"No loose ends to tie up on any cases?"

"All up to date, Guv," said Max.

"Well, in that case just pop the paperwork in and you're on your way."

"Thanks Guv," Max stood to leave. "I would say goodbye, but I dare say we'll be seeing each other soon enough at Millie's anyway."

"Probably," agreed Neil. "Enjoy your time off, Max."

"I will," promised Max.

(iii)

Neil closed the door behind Max. He was always glad to see the back of him. Max's reasons for requesting leave were reasonable and valid, and yet, there was something about the whole interview that didn't quite ring true to Neil. He felt that Max had left the room quietly congratulating himself for having pulled the wool over Neil's eyes. But Max claiming this as a victory was pointless, really. Neil had absolutely no grounds for denying a long serving officer leave at the birth of a child anyway.

He considered the possibility that Max had been laying it on a bit thick about his state of exhaustion, and that could be why he left the room so pleased with himself. Well, whether Max himself knew it or not, any fool could see how much, in the space of the last year, Max had started to unravel. It showed in his diminished physique and his deteriorating relations with everyone he worked with. He was a very different Max Carter to the one who had started at Sun Hill three or so years ago. Having time off, for whatever reason, would undoubtably do Max the world of good. Well, at least Neil hoped so, for Andrew's and Milile's sakes, if not for Max's own.

But despite his dislike and distrust of Max, or maybe even because of them, Neil had recently discovered he had a sneaking sympathy for Max. This was partly due to his understanding of what it was like to be a father when your relationship with your child relied on someone who wasn't actually your partner. No matter how fair they tried to make the system, Neil thought, mothers still held most of the cards. And Neil utterly believed that Max's love for Andrew was very strong and just as sincere. Max was lucky that Millie didn't seem the type, like Pippa, to make the decision to whisk a child away to live in a foreign land. Thank goodness for Jake's maturity and innate ability to understand and forgive parental motivations. Though luckily, on the whole Jake had quite reasonable and rational parents. But how would the average child cope, Neil wondered, if they had been raised by a mother like Max's, to whom Neil and Millie had been introduced the night Andrew was born...

_Neil and Millie had been alone with Andrew while Jake visited a friend and Max had gone to collect his mother. Neil was holding Andrew, allowing Millie to have a bit of a stretch by walking around her room. Then they heard the approaching sound of angry voices. At first the only voice they heard was decidedly female, but it was soon joined by a very angry sounding male._

_"Is that…Polish?" Millie had asked him._

_"I believe it is," confirmed Neil. He knew that her question was actually "do you think that's Max and his mother?" but neither was going to say it. Whatever language it was and whoever the speakers were, the discussion was definitely vitriolic._

_It was in fact Max and his mother speaking, and if Neil and Millie had been able to speak Polish, they would have found the conversation running something along the lines of this._

_"So, what room is this slut in?"_

_"Mum, for god's sake, someone will hear you!"_

_"No one can understand us!"_

_"What, you think we're the only people in London who speak Polish?"_

_"So what if they hear us! I just tell it like it is! If you were so ashamed, you'd have asked this girl to marry you! Then you wouldn't have a bastard son!"_

_"And I've told you a hundred times," said Max through gritted teeth, "that I didn't know she was pregnant until a month ago and she was hardly going to marry me then."_

_"Why not? You think she's happy not to be married, with a child?"_

_"She doesn't love me…"_

_"Well maybe if you'd been man enough to ask her to marry you, you might have talked her into it! Women, especially ones like her, like strong men, not…"_

_"Right, old woman, we're here. So bite your tongue or you might ruin everything for both of us!"_

_Max and his mother walked into the room and saw Millie standing across the other side of the bed. Neil was sitting in the corner and remained unobserved by them. In contrast to the bitter shrew he had heard in the corridor, Mrs. Carter had somehow transformed herself into a sweet, fragile grandmotherly type, apparently unable to get herself across with room without the help of her devoted son._

_As soon as she set eyes on Millie she made her way towards her, smiled beatifically at her and extending both arms to embrace the mother of her grandchild._

_"You must be Millie," she said, in clear though slightly accented English._

_"Hello, Mrs. Carter," said a confused Millie, returning the hug._

_Neil noticed Max standing nervously behind his mother, trying to anticipate what the old woman would do next._

_"Call me Mum," Mrs. Carter continued, playing the loving matriarch to the hilt._

_Millie was temporarily dumbstruck. There were so many reasons why there was no way she was ever going to do that, but she could see immediately that annoying Mrs. Carter could have dire consequences for her, and worse ones for Max. And from the defeated look on Max's face, he had enough to cope with already._

_"Thank you, Mrs. Carter," Millie said. "But my own mother is still very much alive, and I fear it would be disrespectful to her to call another woman 'mum'."_

_Mrs. Carter smiled and looked at Max. He was relieved to see that Millie's response seemed to have pleased her. "You hear that, Max. She has respect for her mother. That's very good. Now, where is my grandson?"_

_Mrs. Carter and Max had presumed Andrew was with a nurse or something, so when Millie indicated Neil sitting in the corner, they were both taken by surprise. Neil was struck by the way the old woman's saccharine demeanour instantly vanished at the sight of another man in the room in which her son's child had so recently been born._

_"And who is this?" she asked through narrowed eyes, the venom in her voice undisguised._

_"This is DI Neil Manson, Mum," announced Max. "My boss."_

_"Why is he here?" she asked, her son's answer apparently not satisfying her._

_"What's going on?" came a boy's voice from the door to the room. Jake Manson had chosen the perfect moment to return. Mrs. Carter angrily swept around to see the new invader to this family scene, and her eyes lighted on a small, skinny boy, pale skinned, wearing a cap to cover his still half bald head. Some deep long forgotten mother instinct in her was touched by the child. He had obviously been very sick. "Who are you, darling?" she asked softly._

_"Mum, this is Jake Manson, Neil's son," Max explained, seeing the perfect segue into an explanation of Neil's presence at the hospital at this late hour. "He, um, has spent a lot of time at this hospital in the last year. Millie and Neil knew each other through work, so when they bumped into each other at the hospital, they became a support to each other. You see what I mean?"_

_"Yes, yes, I do," the smiling façade had returned to Mrs. Carter's face. "Now, can I hold my grandson?"_

Neil's mind returned to the present. He opened his blinds and looked out at CID and saw Max at his desk, still smiling smugly. Max the police officer was all ego. And he was a complete contrast to Max the son. No wonder Max had such concerns about his ability to parent a child. And no wonder it was so important to him to make a success of it. He really had no one else to belong to. He clearly didn't live up to whatever his mother wanted him to be. Neil doubted anyone could.

(iv)

As Max walked out the gates of Sun Hill, he smiled to himself with satisfaction. At times like this he had to ask himself, was he exceptionally smart, or was everyone around him just very, very dumb?


	5. Millie's Visitors

It was mid-morning Saturday, the day after Millie's visit to Sun Hill, and Andrew was down for his nap. Millie decided it was the perfect opportunity to have a look through her wardrobe and work out which of her clothes she was actually still able to wear. It was nearly a year since she'd got pregnant and all the clothes she owned for the spring season were therefore designed to fit her pre-baby frame. She hadn't realised fitting into these clothes again would be such a problem until she had tried to find herself something half way decent to wear to Sun Hill yesterday. She was dismayed to discover that precious little of the previous year's wardrobe still fitted her properly and she had had to resort to wearing multiple layers to hide the fact that she couldn't button up her favourite jeans.

So, it was time for a rationalisation, or at least to sort which clothes she could readily wear and which ones should be banished to the back of the wardrobe until such a time as she could recommence her pre-baby exercise regime. And she was having a very depressing time of it, trying things only to discover how much the shape of her body had actually changed. Although, being naturally lean, she had lost the majority of her baby weight easily, there was still that extra layer of flesh around her middle. That was nothing, though, compared to the few cup sizes she had increased in the bust. Even if her looser shirts fitted her around the waist, they were certainly stretched to their limit across her chest. Millie felt she should probably be pleased about this, but it just made her feel very self conscious to have her bosom spilling over the top of every low cut blouse she tried on.

Most of the clothes that landed in the 'wearable' pile were made of stretchy fabrics. Millie had just slithered into a rather smart mini dress when, to her dismay, she heard her door bell ring. She tried to struggle out it, but it was too tight to get off in a hurry. She feared that if she didn't get to the door soon the person would ring the bell again, or start knocking, and she didn't want Andrew to be woken just yet. She had no choice but to go to the door as she was.

Millie peered through the spy hole to see Max standing on the other side of her door. Well, she figured, it could have been worse. At least she knew Max and could explain why she was dressed up like this at such an hour of the day. And what was being revealed was nothing he hadn't seen before.

Millie opened the door and showed Max in. He did a double take at the sight of Millie in such a revealing outfit, especially at this time of the day. His surprise soon gave way to appreciation as he took a proper look at her. Unbrushed hair, no make up, certainly carrying a few pounds extra than she used to, and yet she still looked damn good to him. It relieved him to know that he still desired her, because that point and the sentimental feelings he now had for her as mother of his child confirmed his notion that he could cope with her being his wife. She was presentable, relatively outgoing but not to the embarrassing point that someone like Stevie Moss was, and, having spent the night with her, he knew she could be rather adventurous in the sack. Millie had a sensible side to her as well, which allowed him to hope that in the absence of love they could coexist for practical reasons and maybe negotiate a certain amount of freedom within the framework of their marital relationship.

But, he reminded himself, this was very early in the proceedings and there was a lot of ground he had to cover with her yet. Working out exactly what she thought of him, for instance.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

Millie glared at him. "No. You've caught me in the middle of going through my wardrobe to see what still fits. And as you can see, very little does."

"I don't know about that," replied Max, looking her up and down again. "I think that suits you very well. Shows off the curves, if you know what I mean."

"I do, but when a man says something like that, it translates to 'it's too tight for you' to a woman."

"Fine, I can understand you might feel a little uncomfortable in that. But hey, what else have you been trying on? I can come help you if you like. I'll happily sit back and watch you parade around in as many different tight outfits as you like."

Millie shook her head and gave him a light slap. "You know that ain't gonna happen," she said.

Max sighed. "I guessed as much. Andrew asleep is he?"

Millie nodded.

"You going to offer me a coffee? I don't mind making it."

"I'll put the kettle on," said Millie, getting up and going to the kitchen.

Max watched as she walked away and couldn't help but notice there was a bit more of wiggle in her walk than there used to be. He chuckled.

"What?" demanded Millie on seeing Max's expression when she returned.

"I was just admiring you from another angle, that's all."

Max's leering was making Millie uncomfortable. "Why are you flirting so much with me today? We both know it's not going to lead to anything."

Her certainty about this didn't fit in with the ideas in Max's head. "So, you're dead certain that nothing could ever happen between us then?"

Millie's jaw dropped. "Well, um, it never occurred to me that either of us wanted anything. I don't know what to say. Why? What do you think?"

Max shrugged. "I don't know. Who knows what could happen if we worked at it? But while we're talking, I was thinking earlier, do you see Andrew as your only child, or are you planning on having more?"

This was another thing that Millie hadn't contemplated. But if she thought about her plans for her life, she would have to say she had always thought she'd have at least two children.

"I hadn't really thought about it," she faltered. "How about you?"

"Hadn't thought about it either until Andrew came along. Now I kind of like the idea of having another, maybe even a couple more."

"It would be nice for Andrew to have siblings," agreed Millie

"Yeah, it would. So, when you're ready to have another one, just let me know," winked Max.

Millie couldn't tell if Max was serious or not. But she had a terrible feeling he was. She could see that Max was in what one could call a 'playful' mood.

"Are you joking?" she asked him.

Max smiled at her. "What do you think? Anyone can see we make beautiful babies together. Why wouldn't we make a few more?"

Millie got the sense that Max was now standing just a little too close to her. She started to back away.

"I better go change, I suppose," she said, turning towards her room.

It only took Max a single stride to catch up to her. He slipped one arm around her waist and put his lips to her ear.

"Come on, don't be like that. You remember how good it was the night we made Andrew, don't you?"

No, Millie didn't. She had been completely out of it at the time. But she was less upset with what Max was doing than she was about her own reaction to it. If she didn't see a multitude of problems in anything happening between them, she could have so easily let him do whatever he liked to her.

She clasped his arm with her hand to free herself and opened her mouth to speak. However, any words she might have uttered remained unsaid, as they were interrupted by the doorbell.

Max released her and smirked. "Saved by the bell, eh?"

Millie looked over her shoulder at him. "Was I in danger, was I?"

Max immediately became serious. "Not from me, no. Not ever. I'd never do anything to hurt you, Millie."

"Not intentionally, perhaps. Anyway, I'd better get the door. Oh damn!" Millie realised she was still wearing that tight dress.

"I'll get it. You go get changed," said Max.

"Thanks," said Millie.

Jake was just about to give the doorbell another press when Max appeared at the open door. The two old enemies eyed each off but said nothing. They knew they had to keep their interactions civil for both Millie and Andrew.

"Jake," said Max after a while.

Jake was pleased that Max had been the first to weaken. A small victory to him!

"Max," he replied, as his father appeared behind him. "Millie around?"

"Yes, she's inside. She just had to change before receiving visitors," explained Max, rubbing it in that he was family, and the Mansons were not.

Jake pushed passed Max and went into the house.

Neil made small talk with Max.

"How's the holiday so far?" he asked.

"Good. Not that I've done much yet. Went out last night. But from here on in I'd like to spend a lot of the time with Andrew and Millie."

At this point, Millie appeared, hurriedly straightening her hair and clothes as she entered the room. Max noticed the quizzical looks on the faces of both Neil and Jake, who were clearly wondering what had been going on before they got here. Perfect.

"Sorry about that, you two. I wasn't expecting you so soon!"

"You didn't get my text then?" asked Neil awkwardly. "Jake suggested we drop in and say hi on our way from the station. He couldn't wait to see you."

"Didn't have my phone with me. I was busy with Max at the time, but you explained that all to them already, Max?"

"Sure did," said Max with an evil grin.

"Good. Now…" Millie paused mid-sentence as the sound of a faint whimper came from the baby monitor. "Excuse me," she said before disappearing again.

Neil picked up his conversation with Max. "You know, if you were planning on being here this evening, you'll have Jake for company. Millie's looking after him tonight."

"Given up on Millie finally, eh? Going out on the prowl?" Max slapped him on the back.

Neil bypassed Max's Millie jibe. "Yeah, it's a great way to pull the ladies: 'Do you want to sleep with me, bearing in mind I have to be home by eleven to tuck in my son?'"

"Hmm, you know, that one might actually work. Ah, look who's here!"

Millie reappeared with Andrew in her arms. "I'd better feed him," she announced, heading towards her feeding chair.

Max watched the colour rising on Neil's face with delight. Just to add to Neil's misery, Max got up and sat on the arm of Millie's chair while she suckled and forced Neil to look over by starting to talk to him again.

"So, Neil. I don't buy that you're actually out to score tonight. What are your plans really? A Harry Potter dvd perhaps?"

Neil kept his eyes fixedly on Max as he replied. "Nothing like that. Sometimes a dad just needs a little time out. You'll discover that soon enough too."

"I should have grabbed a jacket. I didn't realise how cold it was," interrupted Millie.

Neil jumped up, "I'll get one for you," he said.

"No! Don't go in there! The bedroom's a mess!"

Neil usually had pretty much free run of the house, so Millie's reaction was irregular. The smirk that appeared on Max's face had Neil even more intrigued.

"It's okay, I'll go," said Max gallantly, getting up from his seat.

"Thanks, Max," replied Millie.

Once Max had left the room, Neil walked over to Millie and Andrew, taking care to keep his eyes on Millie's face, and said quietly, "Look, Millie, if you want Jake and me to leave…"

"Why would you think that?" asked Millie, before how things seemed actually hit her. "Oh, Neil no! I was just trying on some clothes this morning before Max got here, and the bedroom's untidy. That's all I meant! There's nothing like that between me and Max."

"You sure? Max has never made a move on you?"

"It's never come up," insisted Millie.

She looked over at Neil, who merely raised an eyebrow and gave her his version of a cheeky grin.

Millie was pinned to her chair by her breast-feeding bub, but she lashed out at Neil with a foot. "No one at Sun Hill would believe me if I said you had such a dirty mind! Except possibly Grace."

"Shh!" Neil wanted to ensure neither Jake nor Max heard that one.

Meanwhile, Max had retrieved a cardigan from Millie's bedroom and was on his way back to give it to her when he encountered Jake returning from the loo.

Jake had a triumphant look on his face as he said, "Dad and Millie alone are they? That's nice."

Max shook his head. "Look kid, I hate to break your heart, but Millie's never going to be your mummy. If something was going to happen between those two, it would have by now."

Jake frowned, annoyed not only at what Max had said but that he'd been able to work out the one thing he could say to Jake that would really hurt him.

"Maybe so, but nothing's going to ever happen between you and Millie either. She's not interested in you. She's much closer to my dad."

Max smiled, "Put it this way, Jake, Andrew is proof of just how close I am to Millie. You do understand what I'm saying don't you? Or are you too young to know about the birds and the bees?"

Jake was indignant. "I'm not that young, I'm eleven! Of course I know!"

Max gave Jake a patronising pat on the shoulder. "Good lad, that's the spirit. Don't let it get you down. We'd better be getting back. Your dad must be in a real state by now."

"Everything okay?" asked Millie as Jake and Max came back into the room.

"Just fine," said Max and he draped the cardigan over Millie's shoulder. "We were just shooting the breeze, weren't we Jake?"

"Yep," replied Jake, sounding slightly sulky.

Neil looked over at his son. What Max had said about Millie and Neil had really upset Jake, and Neil could see Jake's hurt plainly. He wondered just what had transpired between them. He looked across the room at the now covered Millie, and when she looked back at him he knew she was thinking exactly the same thing.


	6. Saturday Night

**Millie's Night**

Max was lying on the floor playing with Andrew when he heard Millie passing in the hall.

"So," he called. "When are the Mansons returning?"

"Within the next half hour. What did you say to Jake, by the way? He looked a little upset."

"Nothing much," replied Max. "I just pointed out to him that you and Neil were never likely to be a couple, that's all."

"Why would you say that too him?" Millie sounded annoyed.

"Because it's the truth. Isn't it? Or is there something you're keeping from me?"

"Why? Am I obliged to tell you about my love life?"

"It would be nice. I'd tell you about mine, if I had one," said Max.

"Of course you would, Max," said Millie, knowing full well how unlikely that was. She heard a car and looked out the front window. "They're here," she announced.

Jake bounded up to the door, which Millie had open before he even had a chance to knock. He face fell when he spotted Max.

"You still here?" he frowned.

"Jake!" scolded Millie.

"Sorry. Hi Max. Dad said he wouldn't come in, but he'll collect me before 1100. Oh, and he said that he'd have his phone on if we needed him."

"Do you know where he went?" asked Max.

Jake shrugged, "Dinner with friends, he said."

"Dinner with friends!" repeated Max, looking at Millie. "And you weren't invited? Apparently, you're not a friend."

"That's right, I'm just the babysitter," laughed Millie. "Now, I'll leave you three boys to play while I see to our dinner. Can I trust you to play nice?"

"Yes, Millie." Max and Jake unintentionally spoke in unison. Millie chuckled to herself as she left them to it.

"Hey Andrew, do you want to see my new game?" asked Jake, unzipping his backpack.

"Why would he be interested in that? He's a baby!" scoffed Max. "Don't you know anything?"

"I know how to be a boy in the 21st century!" retorted Jake. "Something that must be a complete mystery to a dinosaur like you!"

"Ooo! That hurt!" replied Max sarcastically. "I'll have you know, I'm younger than your dad."

"Rubbish!" Jake knew his dad was old, but this was impossible. "You look years older! You're losing your hair for starters!"

Max ran his fingers through his supposedly thinning locks and glared. Jake smiled jubilantly, happy he'd found Max's weakness. So he was worried about his aging and losing his looks, was he? Awesome!

"Well, I'll leave you kids to alone to bond then. I'm going to see if Millie needs any help," said Max, lifting himself up from the floor.

"Need a hand there, old man?" asked Jake cheekily.

Max said nothing. He was trying to hide the fact he was limping slightly because his foot had gone to sleep. He gingerly made his way to the kitchen, wondering how much longer he could cope with this without a little 'help'. Andrew was wonderful, Millie was pleasant company, but that Manson kid… he was really trying Max's patience. Andrew would be in bed soon. Max had hoped to have a word to Millie, but with Jake around, that wasn't possible. The night was still young. Neil Manson was having a night on the town, maybe he should have one as well?

Millie was stirring a pot on the stove when Max walked in. She could see his good humour was starting to wear thin.

"How's Andrew?" she asked him.

"Fine," said Max gruffly, "It's the other kid that's bugging me. Why does he have to be here so often?"

Millie hid a smile, "Jake giving you a hard time is he?"

"Why? You think that's funny, do you?" Max replied irritably. "Why would you support him over me?"

Millie laid down her spoon to give Max her full attention. "Max, calm down. Firstly, I would support him because he's a child and doesn't know any better, and secondly because you're an adult and should know better. Anyway, it's not a competition.

Max rubbed his face with his hands. He reminded himself it was wise to keep in Millie's good graces. "Sorry, Millie, I'm just tired, that's all. Didn't sleep well last night. Maybe it's time I left."

Millie looked at him sadly. She was under no illusions why he was irritable, and why he now wanted to leave.

"Maybe it is," she said putting a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. "Max, I know this is really hard for you, but remember, I'm here to support you."

"Thanks Millie," said Max, who was wearing his 'I need a hug' face. He opened his arms to extend the invitation further, after a moment's uncertainty, Millie accepted. Max drew a deep breath and thought to himself how if that Manson boy weren't here, he'd be moving things along to the kissing stage just about now.

As it was, the hug lasted for quite some time. Over Millie's shoulder, Max saw Jake enter the room carrying Andrew. He grinned malevolently at Jake as he moved his hands slowly and caressingly over Millie's back.

"Millie?" said Jake, hoping she would tell him things weren't how they looked.

"Hi Jake," said Millie, releasing Max and facing Jake with a look that bore no sense of embarrassment or guilt at having been caught in this position. She had to convince herself it was just a friendly hug. "Max is leaving now."

"How long's he going for to get a hug like that?"

"You jealous, Jake?" taunted Max. "I told you before Millie and I have a special friendship."

Millie cast a stern glance in Max's direction. "Now, stop it, both of you. So, I guess we'll see you soon then Max."

Millie walked Max to the door, Jake trailing behind them. Max leaned in to kiss Millie good bye and unlike the other night, this time she let him. It was only a small peck on the cheek, but to Max it was another step along the path.

"Don't old people have trouble driving in the dark?" asked Jake cheekily. "You sure you're right to get home?"

Max gave a fake laugh and ruffled Jake's hair. Rather roughly, Jake felt.

"I can stay if you prefer, Jake? No? Okay then. Ring you tomorrow, Millie. Bye Andrew," said Max, giving his son one final kiss before heading towards his car.

Jake stood at the door as Max walked away, as if he were ensuring that Max was really leaving. Why was he spending so much time alone with Millie these days? This was what happened when he, Jake, wasn't around to keep and eye on things!

Jake shut the door as Max drove off, and stomped his way in to see Millie. She was preparing Andrew for bed.

"Why do you let him get away with so much?" demanded Jake.

Millie held Andrew on the change table with one hand, while she deftly pulled a pre-folded nappy out of the drawer with the other. "You're right Jake, I'm sorry. I'm so used to Max behaving like that, and so is your dad, that I forget what it can be like for you. I really should have stuck up for you more."

Jake was trying to act as the protector here, and was indignant that Millie thought he was seeking to be defended. "That's not what I meant. I can look after myself just fine. I meant that, well, basically he's nasty and grumpy to everyone, and he doesn't deserve for you to be so nice to him."

Millie decided it was time to give Jake a brief moral lecture. "Everybody deserves to be treated nicely, Jake, no matter who they are. You'll often find someone who's nasty or mean is like that because they're lonely or unhappy. That's certainly why I think Max acts the way he does. He's afraid that you and your dad are more important to Andrew and me than he is."

"Well, aren't we?" asked Jake.

There was a pause as Millie worked out how she could answer that without contradicting herself.

"You're all important to me for different reasons. As to Andrew, well, I think you have to expect he'll be closer to his dad and mum than anyone else. But you'd understand that. You love you mum and dad best in the world, don't you?"

Jake nodded, but quickly added, "Max isn't your dad though. I saw you hugging him right now. You don't let Dad hug you like that. He had his hands all over you!"

_So,_ Millie thought, _I wasn't reading too much into that hug_. "Hmm, maybe Max's hug was a bit much, and I would have stopped him if he'd done anything else, like try to kiss me, for instance. But he didn't so that was all okay. And it's not so much a matter of me letting your Dad hug me like that. He's too much of a gentleman to attempt to take things too far."

"So if Dad were less of a gentleman, would you let him do that to you?" _Maybe_, said a voice in Jake's head, _Maybe Millie is just waiting for Dad not to be too much of a gentleman?_

Millie laughed. "Your dad just wouldn't do that Jake, so we'll never know, will we? Now, Andrew's hungry so let's go sit in front of the telly while I feed him."

They went together to the sitting room and Millie sat down with her son while Jake turned on the television. Neither said anything. Millie presumed this was because Jake was absorbed in his tv show, so she let him be. Jake, however, was silent because he was deep in thought. He was trying to figure out a way to persuade his father to be less of a gentleman.

**Neil's Night**

Grace stifled another yawn. She was beginning to think that Neil Manson wasn't quite the catch she had always thought he was. Here they were, nearly finished their first course, and all he seemed to want to talk about was Millie and Max. She supposed she should take the blame for introducing this topic. She had innocently asked Neil about his day and he had told her about the visit to Millie's and Jake's interactions with Max. This had led onto his concerns that Millie was falling under Max's spell again. Grace wanted to believe that he was rabbitting on about it out of worry about Millie, but her own insecurities were telling her that the problem was that Neil wanted Millie for himself, and all of this was motivated by his jealousy.

Neil read the expression on Grace's face and knew that he'd gone on for too long about Millie. He didn't really understand why he was doing it. He had told himself that this was a topic he should pretty much avoid, as he sensed Grace was slightly envious of his closeness to Millie. But he was nervous, she asked him about it, and very little else worthwhile to talk about had popped into his head. He was at the stage of the conversation now where he was just making a few final statements with which to round off. He hoped her patience would last at least until he thought up a way to turn the conversation around.

"…anyway," he said, pausing for what Grace thought was the first time in ages for a breath. "How was your day?"

Grace looked at him over her wine glass. "Not half as social as yours, by the sound of it. I cleaned and shopped. Nothing interesting there either, just grocery shopping. Sorry."

Neil shook his head sadly. "Ah, well, that's a shame. Apart from my tales of woe concerning my son's illness, the only preoccupation I have in life is wondering if anything's going to happen between Millie and Max."

Grace was relieved to see he could send himself up. Perhaps he still had a sense of humour after all? "Well, they do make an attractive couple. I don't know much about Millie, but I like what I know and would be happy if she got what she wanted out of Max."

Neil's eyebrow was raised. "You think he could give her what she wants? I didn't know you thought so highly of Max."

"If I can continue, I was going to say he'd have to change a lot."

"Definitely," agreed Neil. He reached across the table for Grace's hand, which she offered willingly. "So, who else do you want to gossip about?"

"Hmm, let me think…" said Grace, leaning forward and clutching Neil's hand that little bit tighter. "What other hot romances are afoot at Sun Hill?"

Neil stared at the ceiling and scratched his head. "Can't really think of any. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I've a mind to start one myself."

"Really?"

"Uh hu. You interested in lending me a hand?"

"Maybe."

"Do I detect a degree of hesitation?"

"You do, but it's easily remedied."

"How so?"

Grace grinned. "By finishing off that last forkful of your main course so that the waiter will return and I can order my dessert."

Neil picked up the identified piece of cutlery and sealed the deal by swallowing the last of his dinner.

"There's no way out of this now, you know?"

"Out of what, exactly," asked Grace.

"Out of going out with me again, some time soon."

It was Grace's turn to ponder the ceiling and scratch her head. "Okay I will. But on the condition you have an update on Millie and Max for me."

Neil laughed. "You, lady, are a glutton for punishment."

Once they had finished they meal, dessert and all, they strolled back to their separate cars together.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I think the walk was necessary to work off that meal," said Grace, putting a hand on her stomach to indicate how full she felt.

"No one made you eat every single morsel of all those courses, you know," teased Neil.

Grace became self conscious. "Did I make a pig of myself?" she asked.

It was on the tip of Neil's tongue to say Millie could eat Grace under the table, but he bit it. Instead, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. "Not at all. See, I can still fit my arm around you, though only just."

Grace grabbed the flesh of Neil's arm between her thumb and finger and pinched it slightly.

"Oww," said Neil, feigning pain. He stopped and turned to face Grace, who stared expectanly back at him. She wondered what he was going to do next, and hoped it was what she wanted to happen.

"Well," said Neil, taking her hands in both of his. "To repeat the cliché, I've had a wonderful time tonight."

"Me too," agreed Grace shyly. "Well, once you stopped talking about Millie, anyway."

Neil looked at her penitently. "Sorry about that. It's just that Jake's with Millie tonight, so they both spring so readily to my mind. And, as you know, Millie and I have gone through a lot together this last year."

"But you're not…interested in her are you?" asked Grace.

Neil sighed. "She's a friend, Grace. A good friend. And that's all I want her to be. There, is that better?"

Grace looked slyly at him. "Almost," she smiled.

Neil released her hand and putting an arm around her, drew her towards him. Their faces were mere inches away from each other. He hesitated for a second, then moved in and kissed her on the lips. She gave him a soft kiss back. Then he moved in again and their lips engaged each other with more conviction.

After what instinct told Neil was an appropriate length of time for a first date kiss, he pulled away.

"Is that better now?" he asked her.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Good. Now, DC Dasari, let me escort you to your car."


	7. A Friend Forgotten

(i)

Millie was slumped on the sofa having a hard time keeping herself awake. The only thing preventing her from drifting off was the sound of Jake's game, which was regularly punctuated by the boy's cries of excitement and annoyance. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. Neil should be arriving any moment to take Jake home, and then it would be time to get Andrew for the 11pm feed. Millie groaned as she calculated it would most likely be another hour before she could finally slip into the slumber she so craved.

The sound of a car pulling up outside the house, followed closely by a faint tap at the door, heralded Neil's return.

Millie heaved herself up from the sofa and went to let him in.

"Jake's still awake I see?" said Neil quietly, nodding in the direction of the periodic flashes of light coming from the darkened sitting room.

Millie whispered back, "Still awake and showing no signs of weakening. So, tell me. How was your night?"

"Good," responded Neil casually, fighting to keep a straight face. He so loved torturing Millie like this!

"Is that all you're going to give me?" asked a vexed Millie.

"It is mean of me isn't it? Okay, I'll say it went really well, though I nearly lost her by talking so much about you."

"About me? God, what did you say?"

"It was all complimentary, don't worry."

"Not too complimentary I hope. I don't want to be responsible for you ruining your chances with her. So…did you kiss her?"

Neil made no immediate answer. This led Millie to believe that a kiss had been exchanged, a hunch that was confirmed when all Neil said was:

"Do you think I'm the type to kiss and tell?"

"Oooo!" squealed Millie, excitedly clutching Neil's arm and jumping up and down and much as she could without attracting the attention of Andrew and Jake.

Both adults were models of composure by the time they entered the sitting room. Jake was none the wiser to what had just passed between them, not that he really noticed them at all. He was still entranced by his game.

"Jake," came Neil's voice through the fog of Jake's consciousness. "Millie needs to feed Andrew now. Time for us to go."

Jake's eyes didn't leave the screen. "We don't have to go because of that, Dad. Millie doesn't mind."

Neil felt he could really do without these constant reminders that he was the only one who had issues with Millie breastfeeding.

"That's true, Jake, but you're up later than normal tonight and we need to get you home so you can still get a good night's sleep. So, get your stuff together and we'll hit the road."

Jake made a face, but got up and started to put the games and dvds he'd brought with him into his backpack. Then he, Neil and Millie all headed towards the front door.

"Bye Neil. Maybe I'll give you a call tomorrow, eh?" said Millie with a wink.

"Go ahead," dared an unfazed Neil. He gave her a kiss on her cheek.

"Why don't you hug her, Dad?" asked Jake when Neil started his way out the door immediately after the kiss.

Neil glanced inquisitively in Millie's direction to see what this was about, and Millie mouthed the word "Max" back to him. Neil rolled his eyes.

"The kiss is enough I think, Jake," responded his father. "But you can hug Millie if you like."

Jake breathed a sigh of frustration. Dad was so lousy at this! A hug from him wasn't what was called for! He could see he had a lot of work to do...

"Have a good week at school Jake. Say, maybe you can visit again next weekend? Max is taking Andrew out for his mother's birthday, so I'll needing company," said Millie.

Jake shook his head. "Sorry, I'm going to a friend's party and it's an overnight stay. Dad will be free though, won't you Dad?"

"Indeed I shall. We should take advantage of a child-free afternoon for a bit of a chat, eh?" suggested Neil.

"I'd like that. There's so much we need to catch up on," agreed Millie.

"I'll call you," said Neil, kissing her again.

"Great. Sleep well, boys."

"Good night Millie."

(ii)

The following Wednesday afternoon, Grace tapped on the door of Neil's office. Neil was pleased to see her. They had had little time together since their date on Saturday. A particularly unpleasant case had kept most of CID occupied since Sunday afternoon, and even though he and Grace had been working on the case together, their interactions had done little to solidify their new relationship.

Considering how difficult the last couple of days had been, Neil reflected that Grace appeared rather cheerful.

"Well, someone seems in a good mood!" he remarked.

Grace sat down on Neil's desk. She leant back on her arms and swung her legs back and forth. Neil was really enjoying Grace's gradual revelation of her more playful side.

"It's not just me," Grace replied. "Haven't you noticed? The whole office is in a good mood."

"Have they all found true love?" asked Neil.

The implications of Neil's question sent Grace's stomach aflutter.

"Actually, I think it's largely down to the absence of a particular detective sergeant," she said.

"Ah," was Neil's only response. He thought it best not to comment.

Grace continued, "I suppose our loss is Millie's gain, as it were? I hope he doesn't offload the nastiness he reserves for us onto her."

Why was it_,_ Neil thought, that if he didn't introduce the topic of Millie to their discussions, Grace invariably did?

"Not that I've seen. I can imagine a visit to his mother's would be the perfect outlet for that."

The existence of a mother was news to Grace. She'd never heard Max mention any relatives except Andrew.

"Max takes after her?" inquired Grace.

"To an extent. She's worse. Having met her for ten minutes, I am a lot more sympathetic towards Max, I must say. But I'm speaking out of school there. The point is that, according to Millie, Max is always very considerate of her, and has been right from those first hours in the delivery room."

"So, Max was there for the birth? Were you there too?" asked Grace.

_Here we go again_, thought Neil. He quickly checked that Grace's knee would be below the line of vision of anyone in CID who happened to glance through the window. Once this was established, he placed a hand on that knee.

"No, I wasn't there. That's not the type of friendship Millie and I have.".

Grace was placated, but she was getting annoyed at herself. Why did she keep making Neil reassure her about Millie? This insecurity didn't fit in with her image as a confident, independent woman. It was time for her to take some initiative.

"You doing anything this weekend?" she asked.

Neil started to answer, but before he could, a complication had occurred to Grace. "Oh, wait. I suppose you'll be with Jake," she added.

"Well actually, no, not this weekend. He's staying with a friend. Why?" Neil asked innocently.

Grace swung those feet again. "I just thought we could spend the day together. Take advantage of the good weather, that kind of thing."

Neil smiled. "Well, thank you for the invitation. I would love to spend Saturday with you."

"Great," said Grace sliding off the desk. "We'll firm up the details later. I've probably been in here long enough. People will start to wonder what we're up to. See you."

It was a very happy Neil who sat at his desk and contemplated his weekend. A whole day, and, potentially, night, in Grace's company! And no need to ask Millie to babysit, because Jake was already taken care of. Millie? Oh darn – Millie! Neil had forgotten he'd agreed to spend the day with her. He moved to go after Grace to cancel their appointment, but stopped. It was pretty early in the relationship to do something like that to her. Anyway, how would Grace feel knowing that he'd cancelled their date to see Millie? She was touchy enough on that subject as it was. There was no way out of it, he'd just have to tell Millie he couldn't see her after all. She'd understand. She was his friend.

At first he wanted to ring Millie straight away. But then he thought that it was only early in the week and Grace might cancel, and all he would have achieved was to upset Millie unnecessarily. He decided to leave the phone call to the following day. But by the time Thursday came around he had made up his mind that it would be more polite to cancel with Millie in person. This way he could accurately gauge her reaction and make it clear to her that there were no sinister underlying reasons for his having made other plans. He would see about dropping in after work.

After a busy Thursday at work, Friday dawned and Neil still hadn't contacted Millie. Millie, in the meantime, was beginning to wonder why she hadn't had so much as a text from Neil in that time, but she concluded that he was probably devoting his spare time to Jake and Grace. This, she figured, was only to be expected, so she didn't let it worry her.

(iii)

"Look at that. He's gone to sleep," observed Max tenderly as he and Millie returned with Andrew from a 'family' walk in the park that Friday. It was fine and warmish, and after a long cold winter it seemed too lovely a day to spend cooped up indoors.

Millie had a peek at her son, who was sound asleep. "Let's leave him for his nap in the pram then, but can you take him into the bedroom? And could you switch the monitor on?"

Once Max had followed Millie's commands he sat down with her in the sitting room, where he was rewarded with a snack, a coffee and congenial conversation.

"You think Andrew enjoyed that?" asked Max as he attempted to cool his coffee to drinkability with his breath.

"You kidding? With all the effort his daddy put in to making it interesting for him? He loved it!" declared Millie. "And when that dog tried to stick its nose into the pram..."

Max snorted. "Yes, the way he waved those little hands in the air with excitement! Tell me, Millie. Are all babies as adorable as ours?"

Millie shook her head. "Not a chance!"

"I didn't think so." He looked at his watch. "Well, I suppose I should make a move. I need to buy my mother's present this afternoon, and get a few other things organised. My mother has a big afternoon planned for her birthday, and for Andrew's visit."

"Sounds like fun," Millie said, though she couldn't imagine a houseful of Max's relatives being too enjoyable. Especially if they were all like his mother.

"Fun isn't quite the word I'd use," Max said dryly. "But, you're welcome to come along if you want to."

"No thanks," said Millie politely. "I've arranged to see Neil while you and Andrew are out."

Max wanted to ask why Millie seemed to prefer him and Andrew to be out of the way while Neil visited, but he bit his tongue.

At the door, Max turned to farewell Millie. His being an almost daily visitor had meant that Millie had got into the habit of not worrying too much about how she was dressed when he came over. But today she had made a bit of an effort for their excursion and had put on make up and done her hair. He found her clothes a pleasing change from the tracksuits and teeshirts she usually wore around the house.

_God, she looks cute, _Max thought to himself as he tried to think of what to say. _I wonder if she's willing to fuck me yet? _was his next thought, but even though he believed she wasn't, he felt all he had to do now was bide his time a little longer until she was. Max had sensed a shift in their relationship since he, Millie and Andrew had been spending whole days together. He had always regarded attachment as a weakness, but he felt that something akin to a real fondness was developing between him and Millie. It wasn't like he was in love with her or anything. Max Carter simply didn't 'love'. But the idea of this being a regular thing was becoming more appealing to him.

Millie stood facing Max, lost in her own, albeit similar, thoughts. After a day like today, it was so easy to dismiss the universal advice she was given regarding him; that she shouldn't trust or rely on him too much. Was it really so unbelievable that everyone else was wrong, and that she actually knew him better than any of them? Millie too had sensed a new undertone to the way they were relating. She and Max had established quite early on in Andrew's life a way of getting along amiably, but this recent change was not just about being friendly. Millie believed it was more about desire. The gentle flirting Max teased her with had become more deliberate and purposeful. Or was it that she was becoming more receptive to it? She couldn't quite tell. But whatever it was, when he was this close to her, she felt something electric being generated between them.

Their mutual hesitation in their farewell that night had gone on too long to be ignored. So Max took the chance to test the water. He moved towards Millie, and lowered his head nearer to hers. Then he reached and took her hand. It seemed to Millie he was about to kiss her.

Millie chewed her lip and against every animalistic urge in her body, she turned her head.

"You'd better go now," she said, in a way that lacked conviction.

Max sized up her conflicting feelings and guessed that perhaps he wasn't defeat just yet.

He brought his mouth to her ear, so close she could feel the moistness of his breath as he spoke. "Come on. You know you want to…" he whispered.

Max may have intended his words to sound seductive, but that's not how Millie heard them. To her, what he said was a show of the arrogance that was so central to his character. She was sure he was thinking she was still the obedient Millie Brown of her Sun Hill days, still under his thrall. But what worked her up the most was that he was completely correct. She did want to. She wanted to so badly. She wanted to grab him by his collar and smear the smirk from his lips with an angry kiss.

Millie rallied herself. She had to be strong. Max Carter only ever showed an interest when it served his purpose. And he had once called her dumb...

Sufficiently fortified against his advances, she prepared to give him the final shove out the door.

Max knew his experiment had failed and let her go. As they moved apart Millie was surprised to see that instead of the smug expression she expected Max to be wearing, he looked rather foolish and lost. Was it a lack of cocaine, she wondered? Or was he as confused about what was going on between them as she was? Whatever the case, it was a subdued Max who spoke to her.

"Look, Millie, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have behaved like that. It's just, that, well, seeing my mother is always stressful, and today was just so easy and relaxed with you and Andrew, I... oh nevermind."

"It's okay, Max," she said, reaching out and clasping his hand.

What struck Max the most about Millie's response was seemingly inexhaustible capacity to forgive him. So different from his mother, he thought. Andrew was a lucky boy.

"Today was fun, and I hope we can do it again soon," he said.

"Me too," smiled Millie.

Max kissed her cheek. Another moment of awkwardness ensued, but this time they both knew better than to perpetuate it.

"I'd better go. I'll see you tomorrow around 11 then," Max said as he finally stepped through the door.

"Bye, Max."

Millie shut the door behind him and stayed for a moment in the hall way, going over what had just happened over again in her head. _What was Max playing at?_ she asked herself. She was sure that his motives had to be something other than attraction to her. Any affection for her he might have had was based on some rosy picture of family life he had conjured up around his bond with Andrew, and not on any merits he perceived she had. And underlining all these insecurities was the knowledge that once his shopping was done and night time fell, he would most likely be out on the prowl for drugs and easy sex. Any thoughts of her would be obliterated by whatever available woman crossed his path tonight.

Millie just wished she was lucky enough to have a similar diversion to help her through the night.


	8. Comfort

(i)

At about the same time that Millie, Max and Andrew were returning from the park, Neil was sitting at his desk, phone in hand, telling himself he really couldn't put off contacting Millie any longer. Things were too busy in CID for him to even contemplate getting away and dropping in on her today to deliver the news in person, and doing it tomorrow was leaving it too late entirely.

It was unfortunate for Neil that as he made the call, Millie's phone was lying forgotten on her bedside table. When her voicemail greeting started, he swore under his breath. Fate, it seemed, had decided that he would have no choice but to take the ultimate coward's way out and cancel on her via voice message.

"Hey, Millie, it's me, Neil, um, just ringing to say I'm really, really sorry, but I seem to have double booked myself for tomorrow. You see, I've arranged to meet up with, er, Grace, and because things are so new with her, I didn't like to tell her I couldn't make it, so I hope you don't mind if I cancel our get together instead. Maybe we can see each other on Sunday? Anyway, call me and let me know this is okay with you. Bye for now, and love to you and Andrew."

Neil hung up and tossed his phone onto the desk, as if this whole situation were its fault rather than his own. Salvation from his guilty conscience came moments later in the form of Mickey, knocking at the door to tell him they had a new lead that needed dealing with urgently. And once, again, Millie was forgotten.

It wasn't until Millie was putting Andrew to bed at the end of the day that she noticed her mobile on her bedside table. She saw it was flashing to indicate a missed call and a message. Checking the caller's name, she smiled happily when she saw it was Neil. So he hadn't forgotten her after all! She picked up the phone and put it in her pocket to listen to once she'd finished settling Andrew in for the night.

She left the bedroom and tip-toed to the kitchen. While she made herself a cup of tea, she listened to Neil's message. The happy anticipation she felt as she retrieved the message swiftly disappeared when she heard what he actually had to say.

Millie didn't get much sleep that Friday night. She tossed and turned as she tried to convince herself that as Neil's close friend she should be happy that he'd found someone to love, not worried about being relegated to second place. If only she could find someone to love as well. That led her thoughts to Max. She could so easily end up in bed with him, but could she ever love him? Maybe if she had slept with him tonight she wouldn't be feeling so alone now? Just when the knowledge that Max wanted her started to make her feel slightly better, she found herself conjuring up images of what he was probably getting up to at that very moment with some woman unknown to her, and probably largely unknown to him as well.

In the morning, Millie was so exhausted that she fell asleep on the sofa when Andrew went down for his morning nap. She was woken at 11 by the sound of Max arriving to collect his son, and Andrew's resulting crying. Feeling very close to tears herself, a half-awake Millie stumbled from the sofa and opened the door without even acknowledging Max, then headed straight to the bedroom to see to Andrew.

Max wasn't used to seeing Millie in such a disoriented state and was alarmed. He followed her to the bedroom.

"Millie, is everything okay?"

Millie busied herself with Andrew while she replied, "Everything's fine."

It would have suited Max to take her word for it and leave it at that, but his concern for her wouldn't let him. "No, it's obviously not fine. What's happened? Is it about the way I behaved last night? I'm sorry…"

Millie did look up at him this time. "Really Max, it's nothing you've done. Don't worry about it."

But Max was insistent. "I will worry about it! I care about you, you know. You're always talking about how you want to be a support to me, why don't you let me be a support to you?"

Millie sat down on the bed with Andrew. She really did feel she needed to talk to someone. And if Neil couldn't continue to be her main sounding-board, maybe it was time to try out someone else? From what she could see, Max was completely sincere in his concern.

"All right, but you'll think I'm overreacting. You remember how I mentioned Neil and I were getting together today? Well, it turns out he made plans to see…another friend today and forgot all about his arrangement with me. I only found out about this from a message left on my phone while we were at the park yesterday. It's silly, but it's made me very…"

"Angry?" suggested Max, adopting a sympathetic expresion. In actual fact, in his imagination he was doing handstands at this piece of news. Finally, it seemed that his ultimate rival for Millie's affections had been removed!

Millie continued. "Hurt. I feel like I've been...forgotten, you know?"

"I do," said Max, sitting on the bed beside her and putting a hand on each of her shoulders. "What are you going to do with your day instead then, when Andrew and I go?"

"I don't know. I want to do something. I don't want to sit here moping."

"Why don't you come with Andrew and me then?"

"Oh, I don't know about that…"

"Come on. No one would mind, in fact everyone would really like it if you did. As you say, it's better than being at home moping."

Millie still hesitated. It was all a bit like they were becoming a real family if they went to Max's mother's birthday together. But then again, what would she do by herself at home? And she was never really comfortable when Andrew was out without her.

"Okay," she said.

Max smiled and stood ready to take Andrew from her. "Well, that's settled then. Now, you get yourself ready while I organise Andrew."

Soon the three of them were in the car on their way to the Carter home. Neither Max nor Millie said much. Millie was still upset about what had happened with Neil, and Max had his own reasons for being preoccupied. As they got closer to his mother's house, Max knew it was time to bite the bullet.

"Millie," he began. "Before we get to my mum's there's something you ought to know. Please don't blame me for this, it's all my mum's doing, but, well, most of my relatives think that you and I are married."

Millie's head turned sharply from looking out the car window to glaring at Max.

"What?" she said angrily.

"I'm really sorry, but as I said, I had nothing to do with it. My mum's ashamed of Andrew being, you know, born out of wedlock, so she's lied about it to her friends and family. It's just what she's like."

Millie said nothing, but the expression on her face was eloquent. Max could see that she was fuming. As he drove into his mother's drive, he asked himself if it had been wise to ask Millie along after all, as now he had two volatile and potentially outspoken women to deal with.

Nothing was said between them as they carried Andrew and his gear towards the back door. Once they were there, Max called out to his mother.

"Ma, it's me. Andrew and Millie are here too."

Mrs. Carter appeared at the back door. She greeted Millie with a big smile and a hug, then spoke to her son in Polish.

"Ah," she smirked. "So you've brought your slut along then, eh?"

Millie waited for a translation, but none was offered. She was left to assume from Max's silence and the mocking tone Mrs. Carter's voice that something unpleasant had been said. She was annoyed at Max until she noticed how in contrast to his usual supercilious pose, his stance appeared in some way deflated. Millie couldn't recall ever having seen Max look so humbled before, but she imagined even an ego like Max's would start to sag under the weight of the better part of four decades of this woman's ill humour.

The cooing Mrs. Carter soon took possession of Andrew. Millie noted that there were no pleasantries exchanged between mother and son. She couldn't blame Max for not bothering to try to make conversation with his mother really. It seemed the only acknowledgment Mrs. Carter was prepared to offer him was an occasional disapproving glare. Millie wished she could think of a way of showing her support to Max without provoking Mrs. Carter, who, she was sure, would not hesitate to lash out at them both.

At last Mrs. Carter addressed her son again, this time in English. "Tsk, tsk, son. Couldn't you have made an effort for your own mother's birthday? Just look at you? Why can't you find a shirt that fits you properly? At least you could have worn a tie! Don't you agree, Millie?"

Millie surveyed Max, from those jeans that seemed to cling to him in just the right places, to the shirt that fitted so snugly that if it were any tighter a button might burst. Quite frankly, she thought the only way Max's appearance could be improved was by the removal of clothes, not the addition of them. But her lustful observations took second place when she saw how what was being said was affecting Max. Mrs. Carter was certainly an expert at pushing her son's buttons. Millie observed the way Max's hands, which hung by his side, started to curl into fists.

"I think he looks rather handsome actually," she said defiantly, catching one of Max's clenched hands in her own. She felt it relax into her grasp.

Mrs. Carter laughed in a manner that put Millie in mind of the cackle of a witch. With that same syrupy smile that she wore every time Millie was around, she spoke in Polish to her son again.

"Seems you're in luck, my son. Once a slut, always a slut!" She jiggled Andrew in her arms and continued to cackle away to herself.

Max tensed up again. Millie clutched his hand more tightly. She was sure there was no other time in her entire life when she'd developed so instant a hatred for anyone as she had for Mrs. Carter! The woman seemed to delight in causing other people - especially poor Max - pain. She obviously spoke perfect English, and made no effort to disguise the fact that she only spoke in Polish in order to abuse those who didn't. Millie would have loved to have asked her what that word she kept repeating meant, but feared the trouble this might result in for Max. The last thing in the world she wanted to do right now was make things any worse for him.

Mrs. Carter's malicious laughter seamlessly transformed into charming smile when other guests started making their way into the kitchen. They greeted Mrs. Carter and fussed over Andrew, before turning to kiss, embrace or shake hands with Max.

"And who is this young lady?" one of them asked, extending a hand to Millie.

Millie took the outstretched hand and announced, "I'm Millie. Max's wife."

(ii)

Neil and Grace sat in a comfortable silence on a bench nestled in the dappled shade of a large oak tree. They sipped meditatively at their take away coffees while they sat. _This is going really well_, they both thought happily, _but maybe the silence has gone on too long? Maybe I should be saying something?_ So, spurned into action by a desire to keep things as pleasant as they had been up until now, they simultaneously opened their mouths to speak.

"So…" said Grace.

"Grace, I…" began Neil at the same moment.

They both stopped to let the other speak, and then laughed.

"What were you going to say?" asked Neil, once he was sure that he wasn't about to cut her off again.

"Nothing important. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh, I'm very okay, thank you," responded Neil, leaning sideways towards Grace and giving her shoulder an affectionate knock with his own. "And you? You okay?"

"Very much so!" Grace bumped Neil's shoulder in return. "But, I must confess, I'm wondering where the day will take us once we've finished our coffees."

"Well, let me see," Neil scratched his head as if this helped him recall the events of the day. "We've had lunch, walked in the park, visited a museum, drunk coffee while sitting on a bench watching the word go by…well, that leaves us very little else to do apart from...talk about work!"

A wicked look crossed Grace's face, "Or…we could talk about Millie and Max."

Neil was generally one to see the funny side, but his reaction to this was not quite what Grace expected. She felt her joke had fallen a bit flat.

"Neil, I'm sorry. Have I upset you?"

Neil sighed. "Not really. It's just mentioning Millie brought back the unpleasant memory of something I had managed all day to forget."

"And what's that?"

Neil hadn't wanted to mention this to Grace, but there was no way out of it now.

"Well, when you asked me out, I'd forgotten I'd made arrangements to spend the day with Millie. You see, Max had arranged to take Andrew to his mum's today, and I was going to go over to keep Millie company and catch up on all the news - about Max and everything," he added quickly, not wanting to give the impression that he'd talk to Millie about Grace. "Anyway, I rang Millie to cancel our get together, but she wasn't there, so I left her a message. And I haven't heard from her since."

Grace frowned as Neil related his story. "When did you ring her?" she asked.

"Yesterday afternoon," said Neil shamefacedly.

"And why did you cancel with Millie rather than tell me you had other plans?"

"Because I felt I had more to lose by cancelling on you."

Grace was happy that Neil had chosen her over Millie. But she wasn't seeing it as a moment of triumph. Her work had often exposed her to the reality of how difficult and isolating being a single mother of a young baby could be. And with Max as the baby's father, what type of support was Millie actually getting? No wonder she relied so much on Neil. Grace remembered how Millie had made an effort to be friendly to her that day at Sun Hill.

"I'm flattered, Neil, very flattered. But I think perhaps you should try to contact Millie. You two have been through so much together. You need each other."

Neil took her hand. "But where does that leave you and me?" he asked uncertainly.

Grace smiled. "It doesn't change a thing between us. We've had a lovely day and if you ask me out again, I'll definitely be saying yes. But I think it's important now that you patch things up with Millie."

"Right then, what do you suggest I do?"

"Call her and see if you can pay her a visit."

"What? Now?"

"Yes, now."

Neil pulled his phone from his pocket. First he called her home number, but there was no answer. Then he tried her mobile and that went to voicemail. There was no way he was leaving a message this time.

"She's not answering. So, I'm awaiting your further instruction," said Neil.

Part of Grace was relieved that Millie hadn't answered. She didn't really want her day with Neil to end prematurely. But at least she could be satisfied that she had encouraged Neil to do the right thing.

"Not much you can do, except maybe try again later. To be honest, I'm pleased we don't have to end our date just yet."

"So am I," said Neil. "As much as I love Millie - as a friend, you understand - I'm really enjoying my time with you. Will you have dinner with me?"

Grace took possession of Neil's hand again. "I would love to. Where are you going to take me?"

"Actually, what would you say to a home cooked meal? I make a mean pesto."

Grace edged closer to him. "It just so happens I'm very fond of pesto."

(iii)

Max and Millie arrived home feeling worn out, both physically and emotionally. As soon Andrew was asleep in bed, they both collapsed on the sofa.

Neither of them had talked much on the way home, but this didn't mean that the day had in any way made them feel distant from each other. In reality, it had had more the opposite effect. They'd both revealed vulnerable sides of themselves today and found that the other had risen to the occasion and been completely supportive. It didn't seem out of place then when Max slipped his arm around Millie as they sat on the sofa and Millie had responded by bringing her head to rest on his shoulder.

"Thank god that's over," said Max, drawing Millie in closer to him.

"Poor Andrew could barely stay awake for that final feed."

"Who can blame him? Being pawed and passed around by all those drooling old women. As were you. Have I said how grateful I am for what you did for me today?"

"I won't say it was my pleasure," said Millie. "But I'm glad I could help out. Say, I didn't know you had a sister."

Max frowned. "Who mentioned her?"

"One of your cousins. I take it she's not in contact with the family?"

"No, she's not. You have no idea how hard a time my mother gave her."

"She gives you a pretty hard time too. If you don't mind me saying, I'm amazed you still speak to her."

Max shrugged. "She's my mother. It's my duty to look after her."

"And you're her son. She has a duty to be good to you too."

Max wasn't in the mood for justifying his relationship with his mother to Millie, but he wasn't in the mood for arguing either. He was enjoying the feeling of closeness to Millie too much.

"Maybe you're right," he said.

The two of them fell silent again. Max rubbed Millie's arm and shoulder as they sat. Millie snuggled closer to him. Something about this encouraged Max to believe that if he tried to kiss her now, she wouldn't reject him. So he kissed her. And if Millie thought for a second that this might be a bad idea, she certainly didn't show it.

Max drew back to check out her reaction to the kiss, and just as he was about to go back for a second one, Millie's phone rang. Millie reached across Max to grab it and to see who was calling.

"It's Neil," she announced.

_Of course it's Neil!_ thought Max bitterly. _Who else would call and ruin this perfect moment?_

"Are you going to answer it?" he asked.

"No," Millie said, putting the phone down again. "I'll call him in the morning."

"Good," said Max, leaning back into the sofa, hopeful that Millie would follow. She did, and their lips met. Soon any tentativeness had disappeared, and the mouths became more adventurous. Hands too got in on the act.

When Max made what was very definitely a move to take things a step further, Millie gently pushed him away.

"Max, we should stop! You know we shouldn't..."

Max groaned. "But why, Millie? Why shouldn't we?"

"Because it's just too complicated…"

"It's not complicated at all! We're both single people, both adults. What's to stop us?"

"We have a child together!"

Max laughed. "Some people would think that was the best reason of all!"

"I don't know…" Millie was clearly starting to weaken.

"Please Millie." Max took her chin in his hand and gently forced her to meet his gaze. "I just don't want to let you go tonight."

Max definitely looked like he meant every word of this. Millie wanted to be strong, but she'd confidently challenge any red-blooded woman to resist a plea like that coming from a man she'd lusted after as long as she had after Max.

"Please Millie," Max repeated. "Just this once…"

He pulled her towards him again and went to kiss her. Millie turned and his lips landed on her cheek. Instead of letting this deter him, he started gently kissing his way down her face to her neck.

Millie was wilting. God, she wanted this so much! And she was so tired of fighting it. Surely one more time wouldn't matter? As soon as Max recaptured her lips with his own, she knew that she was lost…


	9. The Morning After The Night Before

A/N This chapter is for you MissLala, in honour of your uncanny ability to predict chapter titles!

(i)

The early morning light streamed in from behind the curtains, spotlighting here and there the couple asleep in the bed. It was enough to stir one of them into consciousness. He blinked against the assault of the daylight on his untested eyes. Once initiated to the light, those same eyes fell onto the woman beside him, still seemingly fast asleep. One cheek rested atop a hand and the other was plastered with a damn curl of hair. He smiled to himself. She was really here and it hadn't just been a beautiful dream! Her being asleep allowed him to lie there and watch her, and bask in the glory of the woman he loved...

Did he say 'loved'? Surely that was premature! Maybe, but he couldn't deny it, at least not to himself. He was completely in love with her.

His mind became lost in happy memories of last night. He wondered why it had never occurred to him before how very catlike she was. Something about the slow, almost languorous measure of her movements and the elegant length of her neck as she stretched back to receive his kisses, put him in mind of a cat surrendering itself utterly to the adoration it sees as its birthright. And that body of hers, with its sprung, lean muscle, the type of slenderness bestowed by nature rather than being wrought by the gym or dieting. Just thinking about how his own body had paid homage to hers last night enflamed his desire anew. He checked for any signs that she was waking, but those molten chocolate eyes remained shuttered behind heavily fringed lashes. Her lips were curved into a soft smile. There was a sphinx-like wisdom to the way she smiled, as if she were always playing a move ahead of everyone else. Very likely she was. But it was her body he was concentrating on a present, not the cause of the smile on her cherry lips.

Cherry lips and chocolate eyes. Add that to her caramel skin and he'd managed to make a confectionary out of her. He could only imagine what her feminist sensibilities would make out of that!

As if rousing herself in protest to Neil's objectification of her, Grace twisted under the thin cotton sheet. She lifted her still heavy lids and saw Neil lying beside her, watching her. She rolled onto her stomach and rubbed her face into the pillow, then looked up and smiled at him.

"Hey," she said croakily.

"Good morning," replied Neil. "Not a morning person, eh?"

"Not really, no," Grace admitted. "Though I will say this is the happiest awakening I have had in a long time."

"Can I take credit for that?" asked Neil, wriggling his way back under the covers beside her.

"You can take credit for buying such a comfy bed. I slept like a log!"

"Can say all that again, but credit your sound sleep to my teenager-like sexual enthusiasm?"

"Not without lying, no," answered Grace. She paused for Neil to react, then added, "But I will credit it to your mature sexual skill and sensitivity."

"Ah, now, I'll accept that," smiled Neil.

He leant in to kiss her. Grace responded hesitantly. She wished she'd been given the chance to clean her teeth first. She pulled back away and asked, "So, when are you going to try ringing Millie again?"

Neil was really beginning to wonder about Grace's Millie preoccupation. Was she joking? In case she was, he responded lightheartedly. "Hand me the phone and I'll do it right now."

Grace reached out and hit him. "You wouldn't dare! At least wait until I'm in the shower!"

"Well that's not possible. Do you think I'd let you negotiate a strange shower for the first time on your own? What lousy sort of boss, or lover, do you think I am?"

Grace rolled onto her side.

"I must say, I'd be a concerned about a boss who showed that much interest in his employee's ablutions. Just how many other members of CID have you made that offer to?"

"Just Terry Perkins, I assure you," deadpanned Neil.

Grace chuckled. "Well, I can understand the appeal there…"

Neil gasped in mock-horror. "Remind me not to pair you two up again then!"

"Spoil sport!"

"I'm sorry, but I'll tolerate no rival."

He wrapped his arms around Grace and they both lay there for a little while in silence.

The break in conversation was eventually ended by Grace. "What are you plans for the day?" she asked.

"Well, I'm supposed to collect Jake at 1230, and before that…"

"Before that?" Grace could guess what was coming.

"Yes, before that, I really should get in touch with Millie. And I say that without guilt, because you're the one who was urging me to try ringing her all night…"

"Until you curtailed my altruism by plying me with excellent pesto and a none-too-shabby red!" interjected Grace.

"Indeed. But not before you got me all worried about why she hasn't answered the phone for a couple of days."

"Mea culpa," admitted Grace. "But can I just have you to myself for a little while longer?"

"Oh, we have hours yet," Neil assured her. Then he drew her close to him again to demonstrate his idea of how they could fill in the time.

Grace sighed, "I suppose this can't happen when Jake's at home."

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, wouldn't it be, um, awkward for your son to find you in bed with a lover."

"Not just any lover," said Neil, stroking Grace's cheek tenderly with the back of his forefinger. "I am serious about you, you know, Grace."

Grace knew she felt the same way, but for some reason felt saying it back to Neil right then felt too contrived. Instead she sought a reassuring yet slightly flippant comeback.

"And I'm serious about that shower," she said.

Neil nodded. "Okay then. But you know what? I hate waste. And I think that it would be a waste for you to shower unless you really need to. So what say you let me get you a little more dirty first?"

Grace smiled up at him. "I can see the sense in that," she replied.

(ii)

It hadn't taken Max and Millie long to discover that the sofa was not the ideal setting for their lovemaking. Max took Millie's hand and led her down the hallway to the bedrooms. When Max tried to guide Millie into her room, she resisted.

"We might wake Andrew," she whispered. "Let's go in here." Millie led him into one of her spare rooms. Incidentally it was the one that Neil slept in when he and Millie had talked into the night or he had stayed to offer her support with Andrew. But this detail didn't occur to Millie just then, and as Neil was at that same time with Grace in his own bed at home, he probably wouldn't have cared less what his erstwhile bed was being used for.

Having settled on a venue, things progressed speedily. Millie felt her whole body thrill to the sensation of Max's touch. The last time anyone had been this close to her was the night of Andrew's conception, and then she had been lost in a drug haze, barely conscious of what was going on. Until tonight when she felt the heat of Max's bare flesh against her own, she had no idea how much she yearned for the type of intimacy from someone. That the someone happened to be Max Carter - of whom every rational fibre of her being told her she should be wary, for his sake as well as her own – suddenly didn't matter. Millie closed her eyes and revelled in her body's awakening. She felt she was a drought-stricken land, eagerly soaking up the rain.

Considering Millie's frame of mind it was lucky that at this juncture Max reached to the floor for his trousers to retrieve a condom. His mission was to possess Millie, but he'd already proven that getting her pregnant was not the most straightforward way of doing this.

It wasn't the same adventurous, climbing the walls type of sex through which Andrew came to be. They altered their position very little, perhaps fearing that anything more energetic might wake their sleeping baby. But from the very first stroke it was right on the money as far as Millie was concerned. Her steadily escalating passion was more than enough to enflame Max's ardour correspondingly to her own. The feeling of her body writhing beneath his as the lapping motion of her hips eagerly received his every thrust, her soft gasps of pleasure, were enough to have him racing towards blissful release in unison with her.

As the physical sensations of their climax ebbed away, a sense of panic about what they had just done crept into Millie's head. Especially as Max had looked at her as they lay there together, and the look he gave he didn't seem much like a precursor to his reaching over for a cigarette and saying something like 'that was fun. I'll call you some time." Max looked very much like he was here to stay.

_Oh god, he better not be falling in love with me!_ Of all possible outcomes to their physical union, this was one she really hadn't anticipated.

Millie felt an urge to get as far away from Max as she could. She found the idea of sleeping with Max beside her all night too intimate, much more so than having sex with him seemed. She wanted him out of her personal space.

She realised she had the perfect excuse for her departure to her own bed. "I'd better go back to my room now, you know, to keep an eye on Andrew."

She disentangled her limbs from Max's, then rolled out of bed and put on her underwear.

"Oh, of course," said Max. It didn't occur to him Millie might want to get away from him. Much to Millie's annoyance he got out of bed and followed her into her room.

_Damn!_ thought Millie. She couldn't see anyway of getting rid of him without being blunt about why, and she wanted to avoid that. They both climbed into Millie's bed and Millie turned on her side away from Max. He snuggled into her back and put an arm around her waist. She sighed. After her sleepless night the night before, she was too tired to let Max's presence keep her awake.

"Good night, Max," she said, and Max wished her good night back with a kiss on her neck. And soon she was sound asleep...

Max woke oblivious to the fact that in another house not too far away, Neil was being woken by those same first glimmers of morning light and in very similar circumstances. He found Millie was still asleep and was curled up against him, clutching the right arm he had wrapped around her shoulders. It was a relief to him that she seemed so contented in his embrace. There had been times when they had seen each other recently that he had worried that she was not falling for him as heavily as he wanted her to. She was the mother of his child and he would settle for nothing less than complete devotion from her. The way she slept holding him now seemed to him an indication that perhaps she was fonder of him than she was letting on, and that even though she might not be yet ready for commitment to him, things were heading in that direction.

While this was all very well, Max was starting to feel restless. Staying overnight at Millie's had meant that for the first time in god only knows how long, Max had spent a whole day and night completely straight. Not that this didn't have its positives. For one, he was able to congratulate himself for proving what he so desperately wanted to believe: that he was in control of his cocaine use and would easily be able to ditch his habit when the time was right. And being straight also meant that Max had approached having sex with Millie without excessively high expectations. When cocaine was new to him, he couldn't get enough of the ecstatic sensation that the combined sex and cocaine experience had given him. His early days with the drug were filled with lust-charged nights like the one he'd shared with Millie. But he was finding that as the drug had become a staple of his daily life, the thrill of the combination had started to wane. When he did mix the two, his expectations for the encounter would be so high he would more and more frequently find himself disappointed. Or worse still, his quest for that elusive high would preoccupy him so much, his mind would wander from the act and he would find himself unable to complete it. This was happening more and more these days. But he chanced seducing Millie because it was a necessary stage in his 'plan'. Anyway, no matter how humiliating sexual failure might be, he was sure the Millie that he knew would not hold it against him. Knowing her penchant for giving second chances, being unable to perform on a particular occasion was practically a guarantee of another attempt!

Although he hadn't slept with Millie expecting the ultimate sexual experience, he was surprised at how good last night had been, even drug-free. Perhaps her undisguised pleasure and abandon had heightened his enjoyment of it? If Max's emotional system had not been so thwarted, he might have realised the affection that had developed between them over the months of Andrew's life had added something to the experience. But whatever the reason, surely it boded well for their future that the woman with whom he had already (albeit inadvertently) started a family was sexual compatible with him.

He was missing his fix really badly by now. And he knew he had a short fuse when he felt like this. The last thing he wanted was to undo all the good work he had done yesterday and last night with Millie. If only there were a way he could get up and leave without having to explain himself to her...

As it had (almost) done last night for Millie, deliverance came in the form of Andrew. He was starting to stir in his cot. Millie automatically jolted into wakefulness by the sound of Andrew's first murmurs for the day. But before she was able to extricate herself from Max's arms, he had gently laid her back against the pillow and patted her shoulder.

"It's okay. I'll get him," he told her.

Not being the one to take care of Andrew first thing in the morning was a completely unknown experience for Millie and it took her a little while to register what was going on. Once it had sunk in that Andrew was safely in the care of the only person in the world who could care for him as much as she did, the sense of panic that had initially beset her soon subsided. She lay back calmly as Max walked naked across the room to Andrew's cot.

Max prayed that tending to Andrew would serve to take his mind off his increasing desire for a hit. He bent over the cot. His son blinked a few times and then fixed his gaze on the face in front of him.

"Good morning, Andrew. It's Daddy," whispered Max. He stroked his son's forehead gently. To his astonished joy, Andrew looked back at him and a big dimple appeared in each cheek as the boy's face lit up at the sight of his father.

There was no way Max had anticipated such a rapturous reaction from his son. He realised that this was the only time in Andrew's existence that his boy had woken in the morning to have his father's face the first one he saw for the day. It could have so easily have gone wrong. Andrew could have been disappointed or worried that his mother wasn't there, but instead he let Max know just how much he loved him and accepted him as virtually an equal to his mother. Before Max knew it, a tear splashed down from his own eye and onto the sheet beside his son's head. And then another, and another. Max realised that he was actually crying, and he had no control over it.

He knew that he had to do something before the all-seeing Millie cottoned on to what was happening. He picked Andrew up in his arms and spun slowly around the room with him as if it were some sort of game they were playing.

Millie pulled some pillows behind her to prop herself up. She knew Max had never witnessed Andrew's morning ritual and therefore probably had no understanding of how hungry Andrew would actually be. But as long as Andrew didn't complain, she was happy to leave them alone to enjoy themselves for a while. Max needed this time with his son. She let herself enjoy the tableau being played out before her.

Had Millie been more widely awake and the curtains been open, she probably would have realised Max was crying. But she wasn't paying close attention to his face just then. Max's still naked bodied was being shown off to great advantage by the shadows of the half-light. She cast her mind back to their love making last night as she watched the motion of the muscles of his back and shoulders as he danced around with his son. Those were the same strong shoulders she had clung onto tightly to as each delirious wave of her orgasm washed over her. It Andrew hadn't been awake, this sleepy and unguarded Millie would have seriously considered asking Max if he was up to doing it again. A dreamy smile formed on her lips.

To Max, in his embarrassment at his tears and drug-heightened paranoia, the smile appeared to be laughter. Had she spotted his moment of weakness and been amused by it?

"What's so funny?" he demanded, hoping his voice didn't betray his emotional state.

"Oh, sorry Max. I wasn't laughing at you. I was just, er, enjoying the view."

"What do you mean?" he asked defensively.

"I guess I meant I was perving on you," she confessed.

"Oh." If Max's mind had been clearer, he might have been flattered. But instead if just baffled him further.

"Perhaps it's time I fed Andrew now?" suggested Millie.

"Good idea," said Max, quickly placing Andrew in Millie's arms and turning away before she could see his face. "Mind if I have a shower?"

"Go ahead," Millie said.

As Max walked towards the bathroom he heard Millie talking to their baby. "Was that your daddy was it? You love your daddy very much, don't you, my darling? And you know what? Your daddy loves you just as much! Yes he does!"

Millie's cooing words to her son were somehow the final straw. Max shut himself in the bathroom and looked in the mirror at the tears that seemed to be all but streaming down his face. What was this about? Why couldn't he control it? He turned the taps of shower on full, hoping that the running water would mask the sound of the sobs that seemed to be escaping involuntarily from his throat.

Soon afterwards, a slightly calmer Max reentered the bedroom and said a hasty goodbye to his lover and his son. Then he went out to his car and he drove home. He told himself he was tired and needed to clear his head. But in reality, all he wanted was to blot his loss of control from his memory. And at home, there was the coke he hadn't taken yesterday, and the coke he had already set aside for today.

And so it was that for the first time since Andrew was very young, Max broke the promise he had made to himself, and to Millie, and took cocaine before nightfall.


	10. Shifting Alliances

**A/N This chapter was created on a Mac (tee hee)**

(i)

Millie put Andrew down for his morning nap and made herself a coffee. Usually her morning cuppa was a hurried affair, squeezed in between getting the household chores done and making preparations for the next segment of Andrew's day. Today, however, she felt justified in taking some time out. She had a lot to think about that morning, even if the issue with Neil wasn't bothering her so much anymore. Her missed calls showed that he had tried to ring a number of times yesterday, mostly while she'd been out with Max, so he was obviously not rejecting her. And she was going to have sooooo much fun making him pay for his neglect!

That problem being all but resolved, she had woken to a whole new set of worries. And most of them had to do with Max. Yesterday, she had gone against every conviction she had about the way she should deal with him. She'd gone out with him and Andrew as if they were a real family. Then she had lied about the status of their relationship to make the occasion easier for Max. And she had topped off the day by having sex with him and letting him spend the night. According to every caveat on their relationship, these were all very, very bad things...

So why she wasn't really regretting any of it?

The phone rang and Millie pounced on it, hungry for some distraction from these thoughts. She saw the caller was Neil.

"Hello," she said breezily.

"Millie, it's me." Neil sounded like he was uncertain as to what kind of reception to expect. And there was no way Millie could resist playing on that.

"Sorry, who is this?" she asked.

Neil's trepidation evaporated instantly. If Millie wanted to tease him, he knew he had been forgiven.

"Ah, so you're determined to punish me are you? I can't say I don't deserve it."

"No, you can't!"

"Tell me, how can I ever make it up to you?"

"Hmm, now let me think…"

"Would, perhaps, a visit and an early lunch be a suitable peace offering?"

"Maybe."

"What if I threw in a box of chocolates?"

"Now we're talking!"

"Excellent. I'll be there in about half an hour."

"That should be fine, unless I change my mind in the meantime."

"That's more than I deserve, I'm sure. See you, Millie."

Millie hummed to herself as she prepared for Neil's visit. It was amazing how anticipating Neil's arrival had lifted her spirits. Such a contrast to how relating to Max made her feel. So why was it, she asked herself, that she had ended up in bed with Max twice and the one time Neil had tried to kiss her, she had stopped him? Was she so much the foolish romantic that she thought love was all passion and fireworks, rather than being about compatibility and respect? At times like this, she wondered if she hadn't missed the boat on the great love of her life by not kissing Neil all those months ago.

Neil was punctual as always, and thirty minutes after his call he was knocking on Millie's door. He was carrying a bag containing what Millie guessed was fish and chips, a box of her favourite chocolates, and, as a finishing touch, a bunch of pink rosebuds.

Millie grabbed the flowers and buried her nose in them.

"Oh, Neil!" she said, reaching out and drawing him towards her for a hug, which Neil returned as best he could while still clutching the rest of his load.

"Your favourites, am I right?"

"You know you are! And just smell them! They're beautiful!"

"Well, I do have a quite a list of crimes to make up for, don't I? Now, shall we grab some plates and get eating? Sorry to rush, but I have to pick up Jake at 1230."

"Late night was it?" enquired Millie.

"Yes, and as a consequence, I'm afraid we slept in. I..."

Neil cut himself off when he realised he had accidentally confessed to spending the night with Grace. But Millie said nothing. Truth be told though, Millie was staying mum for fear she would feel obliged to offer Neil full disclosure about her night with Max if he told her about Grace.

"I slept really well last night, and so did Andrew, luckily," she said as she rustled up plates and cutlery.

"So, how did you end up spending your free day?" asked Neil, who had buried his crimson face in the refrigerator in the guise of organising their drinks.

"Actually I ended up going along with Max and Andrew to Max's mother's birthday."

"Oh." Neil sounded surprised. "How was it?"

Millie put one plate in front of Neil and sat herself down before the other one. She might not be able to talk about sleeping with Max, but she sure had some stories about his mother. "Oh Neil, you have no idea! That woman is evil!"

"Mrs. Carter? Yes, I did get that impression from our brief encounter. What did she get up to yesterday?"

"Well," mumbled Millie through her first mouthful of food, "for starters, she had told all her friends that Max and I are married…"

"What? I can imagine how you reacted to that!"

Millie's smiled guiltily. "Actually, I somehow ended up going along with it. It would have just been too difficult otherwise."

Neil opened his mouth to comment, but changed his mind. There was no point lecturing her.

"Difficult for Max, you mean?" he asked instead.

"Exactly. He was on edge the whole time we were there as it was. It's sad. On one level you can see he despises his mother, but every now and again you get a glimpse of the little boy who just wants to make her happy."

"That's understandable," said Neil. "Even abused children want the love and approval of their parents, and some, including myself, might say that Max is emotionally abused by his mother."

"I agree. She seems to get a kick out of seeing him squirm. He's very loyal, I'll say that for him. I wouldn't have tolerated it for so long!"

"You might think differently if she were the only mother you ever had."

"Probably," agreed Millie on pondering what he'd said. "Apparently he has a sister the mother managed to scare away. Honestly Neil, I don't like admitting it, but I think I hate that woman."

"She asks for it, Millie. And, by the way, I can see why you'd sympathise with Max. I feel for him too. But it's a shame it hasn't taught him to be gentler in his own dealings with people."

"True," conceded Millie.

"So how did you finish up with him then?"

"What do you mean?"

Neil thought this was a strange reaction. "I mean, did you and Max finish the day on good terms? What did you think I meant?"

"Oh, yes, we did. Sorry, I think I'm still beating myself up about agreeing to let Max's mother's cronies think we were married. I hate the thought of giving in to bullying."

"Sounds to me like what you did, you did for the right reasons."

"I'm glad you think so, thanks."

They both took sips of their teas. Neil took a look at his watch and realised it wasn't long before he had to leave.

"I wanted your opinion on something, Millie."

Millie thumped the table. "Ah ha! I knew it! You haven't come here to make up with me at all! You just want to exploit my womanly wisdom!"

"You know me too well, Millie."

"Well, go on. Ask away."

"It's about Grace. I'm, um, pretty serious about her, you know."

"I had detected that!"

"Yes, yes, well done," Neil congratulated. "Maybe I should be inviting you to join my CID team."

"Would it improve my chances if I said I detected that you had more to say?"

Neil smiled, "Maybe, because you're right. To cut to the chase, I'm serious about Grace, and I want to introduce her to Jake. What do you think about that?"

What did Millie think about it? It was surprise considering they'd only been seeing each other a few weeks. Millie had a rising sense of panic regarding what this meant about her own place in Jake's and Neil's lives. But she was happy that Neil was happy, happy too that Jake might soon have a stepmother, who, by all accounts, was a very nice person.

"I think," she began, "that if you're thinking Jake would want to know sooner rather than later, then I agree with you. I think he might come to resent not hearing about it straight away. He sees himself as your little protector, you know."

Neil nodded. "Do you think he'll like her?" was his next question.

Millie guessed that Neil was thinking the same thing she was, that perhaps Jake still had his heart so set on something happening between Millie and Neil and might give any usurper a hard time, the way he did with Max. But she knew Jake would want to be kept in the know.

"I'm not really an expert when it comes to Grace. But I'm sure he will, once he lets himself."

"Couldn't have put it better myself. So, do you think next weekend is too soon for an introduction?"

"Next weekend?" That seemed sudden. "Well, no, I guess not. I think the sooner Jake knows the more included he'll feel and the happier he'll be about it."

"One more thing, Millie…"

Millie sighed. "Isn't there always?"

"Sorry, I know it's a bit like that. But it had occurred to me that Jake might take Grace's entrance into his life better if he knew that this is what both you and I want. You see, I think he still wants something to happen between us…"

"You could be right there."

"So I thought perhaps it could be the four of us at dinner together. What do you think?"

_Why not invite Max as well, make it really uncomfortable? _Millie thought to herself. Did Neil think she needed convincing about Grace as much as Jake did? But, what could she say?

"I think you're probably right. But I'm not cooking!" she joked.

"I wouldn't dare ask you to! That would be the proverbial straw, I've no doubt. No, I'll cook. Have I told you I make..."

"A mean pesto? Yes you have!"

"Okay, sorry."

"It should be an interesting meal!"

"Indeed," said Neil, glancing at his watch again. "I'd better get a move on. We'll talk soon, okay?"

"Before next weekend anyway," agreed Millie. She did feel for Neil. It must have been hard for him to ask her for her help so openly. He didn't generally make demands on his friends, at least not without doing them a favour first. It was one of his quirks, ones of the things that she loved so much about him. Dear Neil! She put her hand on his arm and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Grace is a very lucky woman," she murmured.

Neil could handle the habitual kiss of welcome and farewell, but this spontaneous, meaningful kind threw him a bit. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but something about their meeting that day had made him a little sad. Like they both knew what they had would be changed forever.

"Thanks Millie. I feel very lucky too. Not just in love, but with my friends as well. One in particular, actually," he said, winking at her.

(ii)

When Neil arrived to collect Jake, he and several of the other boys who had stayed overnight were still running and tumbling around the garden, as boys of their age typically do. Neil stood for a few minutes to watch his son partaking of this sport. It wasn't long before Jake wandered off to the side to catch his breath. Occasions like this reminded Neil that although Jake was so remarkably better than he had been a year ago, he was still not quite as robust as an average lad of his age. It heartened him somewhat to see Jake looking so happy in spite his need for a rest. Despite, or possibly because of all he had been through, Jake gave the impression of being determined to make the most of every single minute of the life he had snatched back from the very hands of death. He really was a little trooper.

And here was Neil about to tell him that the happy life he was enjoying was about to change. He was going to tell him that no matter how hard Jake wished for it, Millie was never going to be his stepmother. Jake was a tough little bugger all right, but how would he cope with there being a woman in Neil's life other than Millie?

Jake soon spotted Neil. He treated his dad to one of his biggest smiles before running back into the scrum to tell his friends he was leaving. After he had finished, he ran towards his father.

"Hey, dad! Hope you coped all right without me!"

Neil offered his son what he knew to be the only sign of affection he'd tolerate from his father in front of his friends, and ruffled his hair.

"Only just, Jake, only just. So, did you have fun?"

Jake immediately launched into a long description of what he and his friends had done, the games they played, what they had to eat, etc. This took them to well into their car trip home.

Once his news was exhausted, Jake said, "But anyway Dad, what did you get up to while I was gone? Did you see Millie?"

"Yes, I did. I was with her just before I came to get you."

"Really?" Jake's ears pricked up. "So, you've spent the whole weekend with her?"

Neil had forgotten Jake was there last Saturday when he had made his later forgotten appointment with Millie. He hadn't mentioned the change of his arrangements to Jake. Well, there were worse ways of introducing a possibly disagreeable discussion...

"Actually, no, Jake, I only saw Millie this morning. Yesterday I was with…a friend."

There was something about the way his father said the word 'friend' that troubled Jake.

"A man?"

"No, a woman."

_Dad has a few female friends. It doesn't mean anything. _

"A woman friend?"

"You could say that. She is a friend, but I would like her to be more than that, and I think she'd like that too."

Jake's uneasiness showed plainly on his face by now.

"Does Millie know about this woman?"

"Yes."

"What does she think about it?"

"She's happy for me."

Jake scoffed. "She can't be!"

Neil suspected he should be pulling the car over to talk things through properly, but in all honesty, he was grateful he was driving and didn't have to turn all his attention to Jake. He loved Jake more than anything, but Neil simply wasn't comfortable with emotional confrontations. All stopping would achieve would be to show up his ineptitude in dealing with what Jake was feeling.

Jake went on. "What's her name?"

"Do you remember Grace Dasari? She works with me at Sun Hill."

Jake did and he had thought she seemed nice. He wasn't so confident in his assessment of her now, however. Now she seemed little better than a home-wrecker.

"Yes. It's her is it?"

"It is. I was thinking perhaps she could come have dinner with us next weekend and you can get to know each other better. What do you think?"

"I don't know…"

"Millie said she'd come too."

"Did she? Were she and Grace friends?"

"Sort of. They worked together."

_Bet Millie's not so fond of Grace now!_ "Is Millie upset about Grace?"

"No. As I said, she's happy for me."

It just wasn't right, Jake knew it wasn't. But at least Millie hadn't been scared off yet by Grace. Perhaps there was still hope? Perhaps if Dad were able to compare the two women side by side, he might see sense? Perhaps Jake could help point out the obvious superiority of Millie…

Grinning at Neil in a way that told him this was far from settled, Jake said, "All right. Let's do it!"

(iii)

At the end of what had seemed to Millie a very long day, her phone rang. She was so sure it would be Neil ringing to tell her how things had gone with Jake that she didn't check who the caller was.

"Hello," she answered.

There was a pause, before a voice said, "Millie."

"Max? Hi, how are you?"

"I'm okay. Sorry, I haven't called or anything, but I've had a bit of a headache most of the day, so I didn't feel up to coming over…"

Meaning, Millie surmised, that he'd been taking drugs all day.

"Sure, I understand," she said.

"Anyway, how are you?"

"Yeah, good. Andrew had a good day. He's in bed now."

"Great. So…" Max's voice was momentarily muffled, and from that and the scratching sound that she guessed was stubble rubbing against the receiver, Millie concluded that Max was calling her from his bed. "Are we okay?"

_I wonder if he's naked? _she thought dreamily, before it registered she'd been asked a question. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"After last night?"

"Oh, yeah, we are. It should never have happened, but, I think we can get past it."

"You think we made a mistake?"

"Of course, I..."

"Didn't you enjoy it?" asked Max reproachfully. "Don't you want to do it again?"

Millie was quiet, which Max took to mean that she did enjoy it, but didn't want to admit it. He knew that what he was saying was working on her, and that he could capitalise on it.

"Well, I enjoyed it." He spoke closely into the phone. It was like he was whispering the words into her ear. "I want to do it again. And again. And again, and…"

Millie didn't think she could cope with having phone sex with Max right then.

"Max, please don't."

"Don't what, offer you what I know you want? I was there last night you know, and you can't convince me you weren't every bit as into it as I was."

"I'm not trying to deny anything!"

"Well then, what's the matter?"

"I'm...oh god, I don't know! I'm confused about it. I need to think."

"Shh. It's okay, I understand. Look, you know how I feel about things now, yes? You sleep, or think, or whatever you want to do tonight, and I'll call you tomorrow, even if it's just to see Andrew. How's that sound?"

"That sounds fine," said Millie weakly.

"Good night then, Millie."

"Good night, Max."

"Sweet dreams, eh?"

Millie hung up without another word. On the whole, Max thought the call had gone rather well.

As Millie nestled down under the covers, she noticed how the side of the bed on which Max had slept still smelt like him. She laid her head on the pillow he had used. Her last conscious thought before she drifted off to sleep was how much she wished Max were in bed beside her.


	11. The Following Saturday  Afternoon

(i)

Millie and Max released each other and lay on their backs side by side on the bed, catching their breaths. Making love in the spare bedroom during Andrew's naps had become an almost daily occurrence in the week following that first Saturday night they had slept together. Their apprehensions seemed to have diminished in the face of what they each got out of it. Millie was revelling in feeling like a sexual being again. And viewing their liaison as an affair rather than a something serious offset her perpetual underlying fear that Max was taking advantage of her, by making her feel she was using him just as much as he might be using her. Max could tell himself their encounters were evidence that his and Millie's relationship was becoming more established in accordance with his own agenda. And he was finding that their sexual escapades fitted nicely into his new inverted drug-taking regime, established since he had broken his 'no coke before night time' rule. Max had started sneaking a line or two to augment his trysts with Millie. He hadn't dared go quite as far as to bring drugs into Millie's house, but he managed to find excuses to nick out to the shop or the car to facilitate his need. And so far, Millie was none the wiser.

Whilst they might concede they 'liked' each other (to a degree), they both would have run a mile if they got the slightest inkling that their relationship signified that they were falling in love. Neither of them dared analyse what brought them together too deeply. Most of the time, they were both far too busy simply enjoying it. But for all they could rationalise why they were letting this happen, what they were sharing was clearly developing beyond the bonds of merely having sex. They had spent that week cloistered away, rarely communicating with anyone other than each other and their infant son, and yet they had both been, on the whole, content. They didn't read anything into those spontaneous moments of non-sexual affection, the little jokes they shared, or how on the nights Max stayed over, they had slept chastely entwined, feeling secure and tranquil having other person there. Millie could ignore the way that with Max around she no longer felt lonely when she thought of Neil's new alliance with Grace, or feared losing Neil's friendship might leave her isolated from the world. And Max could ignore that he no longer had the desire to find other sexual partners to get him through his nights alone and that he hadn't trusted or felt this close to a woman since…well, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

As they lay panting on the bed, Millie turned her face towards Max and noticed a self-satisfied look was forming on his face. Just as Max had when she'd smiled mysteriously last Sunday morning, she immediately became defensive. Was he laughing at her? Therein lay what was so often the fatal flaw with relationships in which the participants congratulated themselves they were only there for sex. There was always the fear that you will be the first to crack, the one who will fall in love and thus proclaim yourself the weaker of the two. Had Millie done something to make Max think he had that power over her? She had to know.

"What?" she demanded, supporting her upper body with her elbows so she could look at him more closely.

Max gazed up at her and thought she looked especially cute with her protruding lip and furrowed forehead. He didn't especially want to share his thoughts with her, so he started off by dismissing her question.

"What what?" he smiled.

"What are you laughing at?"

Max rolled nearer to her and tried to smooth the crease in her forehead with his thumb.

"Nothing," he said.

His evasiveness only served to alarm Millie further.

"Rubbish! What did I do? You better tell me!" Millie grabbed Max's wrists as if to wrestle an answer out of him, hoping her puckish behaviour would disguise just how insecure she was actually feeling.

"All right, all right!" said Max. "If you must know, I was just thinking how, um, you're, you know, a bit of a goer."

Millie's frowned deepened; not out of anger, but because she didn't know what to think. Should she be flattered or insulted?

"What do you mean by that?" she pouted.

Max sighed. It hadn't been his intention to upset her. A touch of diplomacy was in order here. He rolled over with Millie still gripping his arms and pulled her on top of him. Once he had freed his hands, he sat her astride his hips, raising his knees for her to recline against. Grabbing a nearby pillow, he stuffed it behind his head to prop himself up so they were sitting face to face.

"What I meant was that it was a very pleasant surprise to find that you were so...enthusiastic in bed. I just never would have expected it from what I knew of you from work. I'm by no means complaining. Now, am I forgiven?"

Millie, who had been sitting at her enforced post with her arms crossed defensively in front of her, gave him one final glare before relaxing and stroking his chest with her hands.

"I forgive you," she said. "I suppose I can live with you thinking that."

"I am so pleased!" said Max mockingly as he leaned back against his pillows. As if to demonstrate his appreciation, he then embarked on a visual and tactile study of her body, starting with her thighs. He took hold of each of them and ran his hands back and forth, as if giving them a deep, slow massage. His hands relaxed their pressure slightly as they began their journey over the softer regions of her hips and waist. Abandoning this symmetrical method of examination, he let his left hand rest on her hip as his right drifted up to her face. He stroked her lips into a smile with the caress of his thumb then spread his fingers and trailed them down her throat and shoulder before his two hands fell into step again by gently cupping each of her breasts. He marvelled at how, unlike when their foreplay had commenced, her breast were now firmer and heavy again with milk to nourish her baby. Their baby. He was sure if he were to flicker a finger across her nipple white buds of milk would appear, but he didn't feel it right that he test this theory. Unlike the lighter, well-drained breast he had employed for his and Millie's pleasure not so long ago, these milk-laden breasts were the sole property of his son.

Surrendering his freedom had always seemed to Max the very bitterest of pills, but the prospect was somehow sweetened by the many delights he was uncovering in his time with Millie.

Millie groaned softly as her lover's hands caressed her flesh. Ever since Andrew's birth she had felt insecure about the changes it had brought to her body: the extra layer of fat, the slight looseness of her once taut tummy, the pneumatic nature of her breasts. But somehow she felt perfectly at ease letting Max not only touch but see her body as well. Each time she had, he had somehow made her glory it in, as if what she saw as its flaws were exalted by his desire and reverence. There was a lot to be said, she thought, for sleeping with the man who got you pregnant. He couldn't criticise you for the additional weight you'd put on without leaving himself open to copping some of the blame for it. And the much cherished child you shared tended to overshadow these more trivial side effects of pregnancy and childbirth anyway. This was especially the case when you and the child's father only got together for the sake of the baby and for occasional sex.

Millie opened her eyes and saw a rather solemn looking Max, sighing as he ran a finger from her chin down into the valley between her breasts.

"I can't believe there's only tomorrow and then I have to be back at work," he said. "I wish we could just stay like this forever."

Max regretted those words a split second after saying them. What would have inspired him to say something so stupid? He consoled himself that perhaps that was the type of drivel that women liked to hear, so Millie might be pleased by it.

Millie hated it when Max did or said something tender like that. She didn't believe he meant it – she simply couldn't afford to. That would make her either feel guilty about her determination to remain emotionally detached from him or, if it softened her, she began to fear she was reverting to the PC Millie Brown that DS Max Carter had been able to wrap around his little finger. She had to find a way to let him know she wasn't falling for it, while at the same time remaining sensitive to his feelings.

Millie lowered her torso against Max's, forcing his hands to relocate their exploration to her back in the process.

"No, you don't," she contradicted gently. "As good as this is, you'd soon get stir crazy. You need your excitement too. And you know how much you love your work."

As much as it suited Max for Millie to be a pushover, he thought all the more of her when she proved to him she wasn't. He admired that she could still surprise him.

"You really know me so well, don't you?" he said softly. "And yet," he added with a bitter laugh, "you let me hang around! I don't understand it, but I'm grateful."

"I'm your friend, Max. I'll always do what I can to support you."

Max grinned. "Oh, really? Because I'm thinking of something you can do for me right now, and it doesn't really require that much effort from you. All you have to do is raise yourself up for a second and…"

"Waaaaaaa!"

They looked at each other and laughed.

"Well, I suppose Andrew's right. Neil will be here in little over an hour to collect us for our dinner at his house." Millie didn't mention Grace was on the guest list. She was keeping her promise to Neil not to mention anything about her to Max.

"Ah, now there's an evening you're welcome to!" said Max as he got up and started to dress.

"Do you have any plans?" Millie asked him. An annoying voice in her head was pleading, _Please don't sleep with someone else tonight._

"Not as such," replied Max vaguely. "I'll probably go out."

"Max," Millie said, reaching to touch his arm. "Promise me if you do go out tonight, you won't, you know, overdo it."

Max put his arm around her. "I promise. I have to look after myself for Andrew, and for you too, of course, don't I?"

"And for your own sake as well, remember that. I know you wanted to use your leave to sort yourself out. How do you think you've gone?"

Max slipped his other arm around her and hugged her. "Really well, Millie. I think I've gone really well. And it's mostly thanks to you, you know."

A tear ran down Millie's cheek as Max held her to his chest. She knew he was kidding himself. This was one of those times when her justifications for offering him sex and not love seemed inadequate. But she had done her best to show him she supported him and that he had a wonderful son had to live for. He had to do the really hard work for himself.

"Come on, we'd better get to Andrew before you start squirting milk everywhere," said Max, trying to brighten the mood. But somewhere inside him, so deeply hidden that he was barely aware it was there, was a sense of panic that something precious was slipping from his grasp. During the time he, Millie and Andrew had been together in those past few weeks, he had felt more secure and at home than he could ever feel in his own empty house or ever felt in the home of his childhood.

(ii)

"All set to go?" asked Neil as Millie finished securing Andrew's baby capsule and climbed into the front passenger seat.

"All set," smiled Millie. "Ready for the big adventure!"

Neil rolled his eyes. "Oh, god, I hope it's not too exciting a night. Jake better behave himself!"

"How's he been about Grace so far?"

"Unnaturally quiet. This is what worries me. I can't help but think he's up to something."

"You think? Well, that will be interesting. Grace has a sense of humour, doesn't she? She won't be so easily offended?"

"I shouldn't think so, but this is a delicate situation. But fingers crossed she'll manage to win Jake over tonight."

"Oh, I'm sure she will, Neil. I don't know her very well, but she seems nice."

"She is indeed, so I'm telling myself not to worry. What could he possibly have against her?"

Something Jake could have against Grace had occurred to Millie, and she was torn about whether or not to mention it to Neil. In recent weeks, she had begun to fear that the openness they once had was a thing of the past. This didn't mean she was about to tell Neil about her and Max - that would make it almost seem like a real relationship! But nevertheless, Neil had always appreciated her honesty, especially about matters regarding Jake. She decided to tell him.

"I did think of one thing," she faltered.

"The you and me thing?"

"No, something else."

"What?"

"How old is Grace?"

"Early, mid forties I suppose. I haven't asked."

"Hmm, well you know how Jake goes on about having a sibling…"

"I see where this is going. You think it will be a point against Grace that he thinks she's too old to have children?"

"It was just something that popped into my mind. It probably means nothing."

"Probably not."

Although Neil was seeming to dismiss what she'd said, Millie could see he was thinking about it. She hoped she had done the right thing.

Neil changed the subject. "Max with you today?"

"Yes," Millie said shortly.

"What did you do?"

"Oh, you know. The usual." At least that wasn't a lie!

"How's he coping with the thought of work on Monday?"

"Not too well. But, you know Max, his work is his life. I'm sure he'll be happy enough once he's there."

"Should I have invited him tonight?"

"Why? Are he and Grace friends?"

"Not especially. I just thought it, um, might make you happy…"

"Me? Why?"

"Well, last time I saw you and Max together, you seemed to be getting closer."

Neil's observations were a bit too close to home for Millie's liking. "What? You think just because you've found someone, love is in the air and it happens magically for everyone else as well? You surprise me, Neil. I didn't even think you liked Max!"

"Well, I don't. But be fair, Millie, you did go along with him to his mother's the other day, and let everyone believe you were his wife. You wouldn't do that if you didn't like him, at least to an extent."

"Okay, so I clearly don't hate him, I admit it! But Max and I are not you and Grace."

"No," agreed Neil. "You're younger and better looking."

"You don't think Grace is good looking?"

"You know I didn't mean it like that. I think Grace is beautiful. I suppose I was comparing myself to Max."

"Oh Neil, Max has had more time to spend on himself, that's all. You could have a body like his if you spent as much time working out as he did."

Neil chuckled. "A true friend is one who'll lie to make you feel better," he said.

Millie gulped. If only her reasons for lying were so altruistic!

"Sorry if I snapped at you," she said.

"I understand," Neil patted her hand and smiled. "One would assume nastiness is the inevitable consequence of spending time with Mrs. Carter."

"Ah, zo I should be schnapping at you in Polish then, darlink?"

"Polish? Is that what that was? You sound more like Eva Gabor."

"Who?" asked Millie as she and Neil pulled up outside his house.

"From Green…ah, don't worry about it. Thank god that soon I will be with someone from my own generation!"

They carried Andrew and his things in from the car.

"Jake, Millie's here," called Neil as he unlocked the front door.

The sound of eager young feet bounding down the hallway soon followed.

"Millie!" exclaimed Jake, engulfing Millie is a big bear hug.

Millie hugged him back. She and Neil shared a look when it seemed that Jake was reluctant to let her go. Millie nodded towards the kitchen at Neil, who took her hint that it might be time to let her and Jake to have a private word.

"Come on Jake. Do you want to sit down with me?"

Jake nodded and followed her to the sofa.

"So, your dad told you about him and Grace huh? What do you think about it?"

Jake shrugged. "Don't know yet. What do you think about it?"

"It's great isn't it? I'm so pleased that your dad's found someone to love."

"Maybe he could have found that a little closer to home," Jake muttered sulkily.

"Maybe finding the right person was more important to him than convenience. He has known Grace for a long time you know, he has had a lot of time to think about what he likes about her."

"Hmph!" Jake wasn't going to be readily swayed by such arguments. He cut to the chase. "Aren't you jealous, Millie?"

"Jealous? No."

"How can you not be after all you and Dad have been through together?"

"This doesn't change anything between your dad and me," insisted Millie. _Not in anyway Jake would understand._ "What say you just see what you think of Grace when she's here tonight? I'm sure you'll really like her."

Neil, poked his head around the door. "Millie, could I call on your expertise for a moment?" he asked.

Millie gave Jake's hand a quick squeeze. "All okay?"

Jake nodded.

Millie found Neil in the kichen.

"Now, I thought you'd mastered the art of making pesto!" she teased.

"I have, but Grace has already sampled my pesto…"

"I've never heard it called that before," smirked Millie.

Neil pretended to whip her with a tea towel. "Minds out of the gutter for the moment, thank you. Anyway, because we had that last week, this week I thought I'd experiment with something new. What do you think?" He held up a spoon for Millie to sample.

"Mmmm, yum! That's really good Neil, but why don't you add just a touch of paprika…"

While Neil and Millie were in the kitchen, Grace arrived and knocked timidly on the door. Jake was the only one close enough to hear her knock. Without a word to his father, he went to answer it.

Grace squinted through the security screen at the child-sized shape on its other side.

"Jake?" she said. "Hi. I'm Grace. You remember me? We have met before."

"Yes, of course, I remember you," Jake grinned ominously. "Come in…"


	12. The Dinner

A/N Thanks Firebird :)

(i)

The sound of Millie's laughter came pealing from the kitchen. A voice that was unmistakably Neil's raised itself to a volume great enough to be heard over it, before it too dissolved into mirth. Grace wondered what the cause of their merriment was.

"What's going on there?" she asked Jake.

Jake shrugged. "Who knows? It's pretty typical of when Dad and Millie are together. They always seem to be happy, laughing."

"Oh," said Grace. She had suspected that Jake would try to make the evening difficult for her, but she wished this hadn't been confirmed as soon as she walked through the front door. And boy, she could do without the reminder of how well her new lover got on with his sexy young female friend! She crouched down to the floor to say hello to Andrew and took a deep breath to steady herself.

"I suppose I should go in and let Neil know I'm here," she said as she stood up.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you," said Jake, clasping her arm as if holding her back to stop her witnessing something she might not like. "Then again, I suppose just the company of a kid like me wouldn't be of much interest to you."

"That's not true, Jake. I'm very keen to learn all about you. I hope we can become good friends." Grace had predetermined that her strategy for the night would be to follow Jake's lead. If he'd rather she stay with him than go greet his father, then so be it. "What would you like to do?"

This was like handing Jake an open invitation to create some mischief. He grinned as he plonked himself down on the couch, patting it to invite Grace to join him.

"I was just going through some family photos. Do you want to see them?"

"I'd love to."

"Cool. You may not know everyone, so I'll explain who's in them." Jake had connected his laptop to the television. He pointed the remote and an oversized image flashed up onto the tv screen. "This is me and my mum, and her husband, Liam."

Grace examined the photo. There were pictures of the ex-Mrs. Manson all over the house, but this was the best she'd seen. It struck her for the first time how beautiful Pippa actually was. Was it the slightly longer hair, or a glow of the contentment from her relationship with Liam? Whatever the case, Grace was beginning to despair at the seemingly endless collection of gorgeous women in Neil's orbit.

_And how can I compete? _she asked herself.

Jake shifted to the next picture.

"This is me with Millie at St. Hugh's. I'd just been given the all clear and Millie had had a scan. We were both pretty happy that day."

This was evident from the way Jake was smiling from ear to ear and Millie was seeming just as pleased with herself as she pulled Jake close to her with one arm while the other hand rested on her pregnant belly.

"You're been through a lot with Millie, haven't you?" Grace hoped letting Jake know that she was recognised and respected what he and Millie had might make her seem less of a threat to the status quo.

"I'm closer to Millie than I am to any other lady. Except my Mum."

_Well, that was unequivocal, _thought Grace.

Jake continued with his slide show. "This one is of Millie and Dad just after Andrew was born."

In this photo, Millie and Neil were sitting together on Millie's hospital bed. One of Millie's hands rested on Neil's shoulder as he cradled Andrew in his arms. They were both staring adoringly at him.

_Millie is certainly all over the Manson men,_ Grace observed. _And j__ust look at the pride and love in Neil's eyes. You could almost believe the baby was his._

"This is another of Millie in hospital with Andrew."

_Another baby one? _Grace wondered if Jake had assembled this collection of photos of his 'mothers' to remind her of her own apparently pitiful childlessness. If so, it was proving very effective. She started feeling useless, dried up and old next to 'Millie the Madonna'. It wasn't as if she'd even made a conscious decision not to have children; it was simply that the right man hadn't appeared at the right time. And now a boy that she might have grown to mother was forcefully hinting she wasn't up to the task.

Grace distracted herself from her self pity by focusing on the photo on the screen. Millie's unguardedness hit her immediately. Grace almost felt she was intruding by looking at it. Millie was holding up her newborn baby for the camera, looking exhausted but ecstatic. Her hair was all over the place and her flushed, damp face bore testiment to the effort she had just put in. It must have been taken only a matter of minutes after Andrew's birth, as he had not yet been cleaned up. And yet Millie seemed comfortable and even willing to share the intimacy of the moment with the photographer.

"We were in the hospital with her, you know," Jake informed the obviously transfixed Grace. "Me and Dad. She was living with us when her waters broke, in that bathroom down the hall here. Millie's like family to us."

"So I see," replied Grace. "And who took this photo, Jake?"

"Max did," came Millie's voice.

Grace and Jake had been so preoccupied with the picture they hadn't noticed Neil and Millie walk in. Grace noted that Millie was looking embarrassed and apologetic and Neil seemed quietly angry.

Millie could see what Jake was up to, letting poor Grace believe that Neil had taken the photo and thereby overstating the intimacy of her friendship with him. She felt compelled to set the record straight. "It was taken right after they first handed me Andrew, so Max was the only person with me apart from the midwives and doctor," she explained. "I think you can tell by the look on my face, we were both on a high at the time." _Max in more ways than one_, she quipped to herself.

Neil glared at his son as he made his way over to Grace and gave her a kiss hello. "Sorry, I didn't realise you were here. Jake, why didn't you let us know?"

"You and Millie seemed to having such a good time…"

"Yes, watching your father cook is always amusing, but you should have told us," cut in Millie. "It's good to see you, Grace."

"Nice to see you too, Millie."

"Anyway," Neil went on, "our meal is ready. We were holding off serving because, well, we thought you were late, Grace. But if it's not rushing things too much, I suppose we can serve up."

"Jake and I can do that if you like," suggested Millie, holding out a hand for Jake to follow her. For a second he didn't budge, but Millie's glare soon withered his resolve.

Once they were left alone, Neil pulled Grace to her feet and gave her a proper kiss hello.

"I am so sorry about that," Neil said. "Jake's a smart boy, but he's a bit too young to be sophisticated in his approach to sabotage."

"It's all right. I wasn't expecting him to welcome me with open arms. You can be proud he opted for psychology rather than violence or petulance."

"Nevertheless, I will be checking your chair before you sit down, as well as my own, come to think of it," mused Neil.

The kitchen door swung open and Jake and Millie appeared, each bearing two plates.

"Pumpkin soup for starters," Neil informed Grace.

"On such a warm day?"

"I have a limited repertoire when it comes to cooking," Neil admitted. "and seeing as I experimented with the main course, I thought I'd play it safe with the first."

Neil directed Grace to her seating, taking a quick look to make sure it wasn't booby trapped.

"So, who's saying grace?" asked Jake with a snicker.

Neil frowned at him. "I think we might dispense with that particular formality for the evening. Bon appetit everyone!"

For the first few minutes of the meal, the sound of soupspoons softly clinking against the bottoms of bowls was all that was heard. After the way the evening had started, no one really knew what to say.

"This is really tasty, Neil," said Millie.

"Yes, I'm impressed," agreed Grace, proving her point by scraping the last traces of her soup from the dish.

"Thanks," Neil responded. He knew it was up to him as the evening's host to kickstart this stalled conversation, even if it were just by making small talk. But before he could speak, he heard Jake cough.

"So," Jake began importantly. "Who's everyone's favourite Doctor?"

None of the adults quite knew whether to be amused or fearful. Millie knew Jake and his dad loved Doctor Who, and she had watched it with them on many occasions. Perhaps Jake was presuming it wouldn't be Grace's cup of tea? Millie wasn't about to let Jake use it to alienate Grace...

"Probably the one who delivered Andrew," she answered.

"I think Jake means as in Doctor Who," Neil corrected her, looking puzzled. Sometimes Millie's behaviour concerned him almost as much as Jake's. "What's this all about Jake?"

"Just making conversation," said Jake innocently.

"Well, my favourite is Jon Pertwee," answered Grace.

"Oh, really?" asked Neil. "He was good but, for my money, when you think of Doctor Who, you think of Tom Baker."

"I think David Tennant's cute," Millie chimed in. "The guy before him…"

"Christopher Eccleston," Jake filled in.

"Yeah, he was a bit of all right too."

Grace chuckled. "Is that how you judge your Doctors, Millie? You know, I didn't choose Jon Pertwee because I think he's attractive."

"Really? That's strange. That's exactly why I chose Tom Baker," deadpanned Neil.

Millie and Grace both laughed.

"Dad!" protested Jake. Honestly, it didn't matter if he scared Grace off, but what would Millie think? "Fine then, if you can't be serious, let's talk about something else."

"What else would you like to talk about, Jake?" Grace asked kindly.

Jake's mind rifled through the list of topics he had compiled to show up Grace's shortcomings.

"Football," he decided.

"Football!" repeated Neil with the air of one who had given up. It was to Neil's endless shame and disappointment that his son had elected to support his mother's team instead of Neil's own beloved Everton. Family discussions about football never ended well.

"Football?" Millie put a hand across her mouth and yawned. "Boring!"

Jake was confused. "But you love football, Millie!" he insisted.

"I've never said that."

"But remember that time you came with me and Dad? You had such a good time, until you had to leave because of Andrew…hey wait a minute!"

Millie looked guilty. "You've found me out. There was nothing wrong with Andrew. I used him as an excuse to leave because I was so bored."

Neil tut-tutted. "I never would have guessed."

"Come off it, did you really think I needed to go to the loo that often? I was making excuses to get up and walk around. Otherwise I might have just fallen asleep!"

Neil was as stunned and disappointed by Millie's confession as Jake was, but in the present circumstances he wanted to keep the mood as light as possible. "Hmm, well, as punishment for your deceit then, there will be no pudding for you tonight, young lady," he said shaking his finger at her.

"Excuse me Neil," interrupted Grace, "but I brought the pudding, and I want Millie to have her share."

"Thank you, Grace," smiled Millie.

"You're welcome."

"Now," said Millie, "if everyone's finished, I'll go organise the main course."

"Need a hand?" asked Neil.

"No," Millie said firmly. She believed it was time the three of them had some time alone. "I'll be fine."

Millie took everyone's plates and made her way to the kitchen. The table fell silent. Jake was wondering what had got into Millie. She didn't seem to be fighting to keep Dad at all.

Grace was thinking about all the times in her career that she dealt without flinching with difficult witnesses, victims of horrendous crimes and the most hardened of criminals. So why was it that an eleven year old boy could have her so floored? She had to get past it. "So, Jake, do you support Everton, like your dad?"

"Everton? No way, they're rubbish!" Another father/son glare was exchanged.

"Who do you follow then?"

"Chelsea of course," Jake was indignant at the question. "How about you?"

"Come on, Jake, I'm sure Grace couldn't care less about football," Neil said impatiently.

'Well, actually, I'm a Chelsea supporter too," Grace admitted.

Neil's jaw dropped. "You are the last person in the world I'd expect to even like football!"

"I didn't say I liked it. But growing up with my brother, who was an absolute football fanatic, I came to care who won or lost. Even to this day, although I don't really watch the game often, I like to know when Chelsea wins."

Neil shook his head, then threw his hands dramatically into the air. "Oh, dear Lord! I'm surrounded!"

Millie re-entered the room and scooped Neil's casserole onto everyone's plates.

"This smells yummy!" she commented before digging her fork in. "Mmmm!"

"Another triumph!" agreed Grace, raising her wine glass to Neil.

"What do you think, Jake?" asked Neil.

Jake just shrugged. There were too many other things going on in his head for him to think about food.

"So Grace, did I hear you say you and Jake barrack for the same team?" asked Millie.

"You did."

"Here's an idea. Next time Everton plays Chelsea, why don't the three of you go together?"

"I'd love that," said Grace.

Jake didn't know how to respond. He wanted to say yes, but that would be like admitting he had stuff in common with Grace. He couldn't understand why Millie was handing him and Dad to Grace on a platter. Had Max finally lured her away? To make matters worse, he was beginning to suspect that Grace might not be so bad after all.

Without raising his eyes, he mumbled "Maybe."

Neil was starting to worry about him. "You okay, Jake?" he asked.

Jake sighed. He'd lost his appetite not only for the meal but for his mission as well. He could always use his health as an excuse to leave the table without too many questions being raised. "No, Dad, I think I feel a bit sick. Would you mind if I went to my room?"

Neil didn't believe Jake felt sick at all, but what could he say? "Of course not, pet. We'll come check on you in a little while, okay?"

Jake shuffled out.

"Is he all right?" asked Grace.

"I suspect he's upset he's been thwarted," said Neil. "I'll give him a talking to later."

"I don't think it's as simple as that, Neil," Millie pointed out. "He's just got through a rough year, and re-established his relationship with you when there's a new player on the scene. No offence Grace…"

"None taken. I think you're hit the nail on the head. Maybe someone should go talk to him."

Neil eyes immediately fell on Millie. She reached out and grabbed his hand. "Not me this time. I caught the look he gave me as he left, and I think I might have pushed him a little too far tonight. Anyway, I'm beginning to think my close involvement in everything you do might be half the problem. If not for me, I'm sure he'd be rapt you'd found someone you really…" Millie stopped when she realised she was embarrassing them both.

Neil wiped his face and put down his napkin. "You're right. If you two ladies will excuse me."

Once he'd gone, Millie and Grace resumed eating.

"Neil's quite the cook, isn't he?" commented Millie.

"He's getting there," agreed Grace. "Millie, I just wanted to say, thanks for making tonight easier for me. I appreciated it."

"Oh, I did nothing."

"It's nice of you to say that, but I know you altered your answers to Jake's questions so that mine found favour. I'm sure you know more about Doctor Who than you claim and that you don't actually hate football that much."

Millie grinned. "Well, maybe not that much. And perhaps I left early not from boredom but because Neil and Jake were so noisy that I just wanted some peace and quiet."

"That's understandable. Look, when Neil told me you were coming along tonight, I didn't know what to make of it. But I think it was the right thing. Neil had the idea that it was best that right from the start Jake didn't see as rivals. And before this goes any further, we're not rivals, are we Millie?"

"Not at all," confirmed Millie. "I love Neil, I'm not going to deny it, and he's a good friend. But I'm not, and I've never been 'in love' with him, if you know what I mean."

"Is there anyone else on the scene for you then?" Grace asked, reasoning that if they were having a girl talk, there was no harm in a little digging deeper.

"Not really."

"Neil seemed to think that perhaps you and Max…"

It always came back to Max, didn't it? Perhaps she wasn't doing as good a job of keeping that one to herself as she thought?

"Well, obviously I've been attracted to him. But in terms of a relationship, he'd be…difficult, I would think. Not like Neil, who's so generous and perceptive. Actually," Millie laughed, "what I need is a man with Max's body and Neil's personality…not that there's anything wrong with Neil's body. I mean, not that I'm after it or…oh fuck."

Grace smiled back. "Don't worry, Millie, I know what you're saying. I'm no fan of Max myself by any means, but I think most women would understand what it is about him that appeals to you."

"Back again," Neil poked his head around the door.

Grace and Millie looked up guiltily, praying that Neil hadn't heard the last part of their conversation.

"Jake okay?" asked Grace.

"He'll get there," said Neil. "He is worried about you though, Millie."

Millie cursed her clumsiness. If only Max hadn't stayed last night, she might have slept better and been able to think on her feet. Instead, she'd been so intent on bringing Grace and Jake together, she'd made him doubt that she cared for him no matter what happened. "Perhaps I should do something then to reassure him. I tell you what, Jake was saying he had Monday off school. Why don't I have him to stay with me tomorrow night?"

Millie pretended not to notice the conspiratorial look that had passed between Grace and Neil as it occurred to them Millie's suggestion would work very much to their advantage.

"Sounds good," affirmed Neil.

"I'll go speak to him," said Millie.

"I'm sure if nothing else, he'd be grateful for the opportunity of returning to the table in time for pudding," said Neil dryly.

Millie and Jake reappeared a few minutes later, Jake's malaise apparently all but forgotten. And Neil took it as a good sign when Jake made a point of thanking Grace for the dessert she'd brought.

(ii)

Millie was getting ready to leave when her phone beeped. It was a text from Max.

"I'm just going to the loo before we leave." Millie slipped her phone into her pocket so she could read her message in private. She felt like a teenager girl hiding a no-good boyfriend from disapproving parents as she locked herself away in the bathroom to read her text.

"U home yet?" Max had written.

"Taxi called, am on way," she keyed back.

She was surprised when, what barely seemed like a minute later, her phone beeped again.

"Meet u there? Want to wake up 2moro with my family xx"

Millie felt her whole body tingle. Max was sacrificing a night on the town to be with her!

"C u soon " she responded. She flushed the toilet and returned to the others.

"Everything okay Millie?" Grace asked. She thought Millie looked a little flushed.

"I'm fine," smiled Millie. "I think I hear the taxi."

"Did you think Millie looked okay when she left?" Grace asked Neil after Jake had gone to bed.

"Huh?" Neil only had eyes for Grace now they were alone. "No, she seemed fine. Maybe she was tired. Motherhood, you know."

"You're probably right," said Grace. But she wasn't so sure…

When the taxi pulled up outside Millie's house, Max was already at the door waiting.


	13. Back to Work

(i)

"You know, I was under the impression that Jon Pertwee was one of your favourite Doctors," teased Millie as she and Jake sat together on her sofa, a big bowl of crisps between them, as they made their way through a few of Neil's seemingly endless collection of Doctor Who dvds. After last night, Jake had decided that Millie was in dire need of further education on that particular subject, so he'd brought a selection with him for his overnight stay.

Jake apathetically moved his shoulder. "Maybe I said that back in the days when I only watched Doctor Who because Dad liked it, but now I've seen more of it for myself - "

"- you've changed your mind?" Millie filled in.

"Exactly."

Millie didn't bother to hide her amusement at Jake's explanation.

"Something funny?" asked Jake indignantly.

"Yeah!" Millie playfully tickled him in an attempt to raise a smile. "You."

Jake shook himself free of her and pouted.

"Oh, come on!" said Millie, prodding him gently with her elbow. "Why can't you just admit that you agree with Grace?"

"Just because we both like Doctor Who?"

"You know, I think if it were Grace sitting beside you now instead of me, you'd both be having a lot of fun."

Jake's reaction to this was not what Millie expected. Her usual teasing method of bringing Jake out of his sulks was simply not working today. If anything, he was seeming even gloomier than before.

"What is it, love?" she asked in her tenderest of tones. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Don't you love us anymore?" asked Jake reproachfully.

"Oh, my darling Jake, of course I love you. Remember, you're my special boy," said Millie planting a kiss on his hair.

Jake noted there was no mention of his dad in her declaration.

"All right then, if you really love us so much, why are you trying to offload us onto Grace?" he demanded sulkily.

"Being prepared to share you isn't offloading you." She hugged Jake so tightly that even he wanted to, it would be a struggle to break free. "Don't you worry, I'm going to cling on tightly to my piece of Jake. The thing is just you might have to get used to the idea of Grace having her piece of you as well."

Jake sighed. "Between you, Dad, Mum, Liam and Andrew, I don't think there's going to be much of me left!"

Millie laughed. "Seriously, Jake. Isn't it important to you that your dad's happy?"

"Of course it is," admitted Jake.

"Well, the bottom line is that Grace makes him happy. And you and Grace getting on well will make him really, really happy."

"That's all very well," countered Jake. "But it's not all up to me. I'm just a kid. Grace should be the one making the first move."

"I think she tried to do that last night, if you remember."

"S'pose."

"Right. So now it's up to you to make the second move."

Jake took a handful of crisps and sat pensively crunching them for a few minutes. "Do you know if Dad is seeing Grace tonight?" he asked.

"Probably," said Millie. Her mind involuntarily started to think about what they might be up to. Most likely it was something along the lines of what she and Max would be doing tonight if he wasn't starting work tomorrow and Jake wasn't staying over. She sighed.

"All right then" said Jake eventually. "I will try to be nice to Grace, because it makes Dad happy. But if I am, you have to promise me that no matter what happens, even if they get married, that you'll still be my friend?"

"Oh Jake!" said Millie, drawing him close to her again. "I promise you, so help me god, whatever may happen, I will always be your friend."

Jake gave her a grin that told her, for the time being at least, that all had been forgiven. And his mood was sufficiently improved for him to 'woo – woo' along with the Doctor Who theme when the next new episode started.

(ii)

Max checked his watch and was annoyed to discover that his car had been stationary now for almost five minutes. He thought he'd left early enough to miss the worst of the traffic, but obviously not. As if his dread that he was returning to a predictable, solitary life wasn't enough, the universe wanted to make him suffer into bargain. He started thinking about Andrew and Millie. Andrew's need for routine made it easy for Max to imagine what they were doing while he was stuck in traffic, because he had experienced those very same things with them yesterday. Andrew would have had his morning feed, and would probably be trying to pull himself around on his rug, checking out each of his toys. Millie would be getting herself some breakfast, possibly sipping on that morning coffee while leaning over the breakfast bar watching their son. Max hated the thought that while he was here wasting precious minutes of his time, his family were carrying on the same as always without him. He started longing to be safely wrapped in Millie's arms, to bury his face in her abundance of hair and feel that sense of security, that feeling that he meant something to someone and wasn't just adrift in the world.

He looked at his watch again. If he hung a left at the next street he could easily navigate his way to make a quick visit to Millie's….

Because it was still early, Max used his key to get in rather than knock and risk waking Millie or Andrew if by chance they were sleeping in. Millie heard the front door opening and went to check it out. When she saw Max she hushed him with a finger to her lips, and beckoned him to the sitting room. Andrew was playing in his pen on the floor, just as Max had envisioned. Andrew smiled up delighted at the sight of his Daddy. Max couldn't have wished for a better reception. After kneeling down to kiss his son, Max followed Millie into the kitchen.

"Did you forget Jake stayed last night?" Millie asked him. "He's still asleep."

A cloud appeared on Max's horizon. He knew it was childish, but there was a part of him that really hated Jake Manson. He thought bitterly that today, while Max was at work, Jake would be here with HIS family, basking in the good graces of not only Millie but Andrew as well! He'd be here for all those daytime family hours that should, by right, be Max's alone. And Millie was apparently quite comfortable lounging around the house while Jake was here in her pyjamas and robe. She did seem adequately covered, but it was still a rather casual outift for Millie to be wearing with a visitor in the house.

Max cast his eyes over Millie as she stood at the bench and made him a coffee. The robe wasn't the most flattering garment she owned, but it wasn't long before his mind turned to wondering what she was wearing underneath it. Unfortunately for Max it was too thick to give any hint of the outline of whichever of her quite fetching assortment of lightweight pyjamas Millie might be wearing. Soon he came to the conclusion there was only one way to satisfy his curiosity, and that was to look or feel underneath it. And, Jake or no Jake, this was exactly what he was going to do.

Max moved in behind Millie as she stood facing the bench and undid the bow of her waist tie. She grabbed at both of his hands in an attempt to prevent him going any further.

"Max! Stop it!" she hissed. "Jake could walk in at any moment!"

"It's all about Jake this morning, isn't it? You know something, I am so sick of taking second place to those Manson boys."

"Come on Max, you know that's not true." Millie spun herself around to face him hoping that a brief but passionate kiss would appease him, but all that did was allow him freer access. With his hands placed on her waist, he checked out the cotton shorts and matching shirt she had on. Perfectly decent, he imagined, if Jake were to catch a glimpse of her in them, but also remarkably easy for him to manoeuvre his hands under if he so desired. And there was no denying he did. Soon his hands had made their way under the shirt and onto the bare skin of her waist. Without any effort at all they slid under the shirt and made contact with the fabric of her maternity bra. The hook that held its detachable cup came undone with relative simplicity, and soon Max's fingers made contact with the softness of Millie's breast. And despite the almost incidental nature of his touch, he felt her nipple stiffen in his hand.

Millie took a deep breath and pushed his hand away. She pulled the two halves of her robe across to cover herself up.

"Shall we sit down and drink our coffee?" she asked him, offering him a mug.

"I don't want to drink coffee right now," said Max, taking both mugs out of her hands and placing them out of harm's way. "I want to have a little fun."

"What do you mean?" Millie stammered, knowing full well what he meant but being so flustered she simply prattled off the first words that popped into her head.

"I mean," Max said as he grabbed her and hoisted her up onto the bench top, "that I want you. Right now. And I know, no matter how much you try to deny it, that you want me too."

Max spread her legs apart and pressed himself against her. Although Millie's hands came to rest on his shoulders in a mild attempt to push him away from her, her legs had somehow wrapped themselves around him.

"Don't you have to go to work now?" Millie's chest started to heave with her increasingly rapid drawing of breath. As Max's lips softly hit the nape of her neck, it took all the strength she had to keep fighting.

"Oh, this will be quick. Not that I give a toss about Master Manson, but I don't like the idea of Andrew being alone for too long." Max craned his neck to ensure Andrew was okay. Sure enough, he was keeping himself entertained. _Thank god for playpens_, Max thought.

"Max, you have to stop!"

Millie turned her face and made another attempt to push Max away, but he maintained his hold of her. It was unlikely Max himself would acknowledge it, but turning up to discover someone else there, even it was only an eleven year old kid, had stirred up his insecurities about how much Millie actually needed him. His desire to be with her that morning was enough to lure him from his intended course, and he had expected her rapturous surprise as his reward. Instead he had found the greeting he received was curtailed by the presence of a usurper. It made him feel foolish that he had in effect put her before his work, before his life away from her and Andrew, and he didn't like that one bit. Why wasn't she succumbing more readily to his advances? This push / pull scenario was one they had acted out many times when their relationship was tentative, but since they had been seeing each other regularly, Millie had seemed to give herself to him more freely, without the need for all this cajoling. But today she was reasserting herself against him, and it wasn't what he expected. He needed to feel he had some power over her again. He had to get her to prove she wanted him. He started by backing off slightly.

"Fine then, I'm not interested in forcing you, if that's what it would take. But I could use a little affection. Can't we just kiss a while? Please?"

Max's capitulation brought Millie back to earth and shamed her. She realised how readily she'd been prepared to consent to sex with Max now despite the circumstances if she were able to convince herself she had been coerced into it. Proving to Max just how spontaneous and reckless she could be was such a powerful aphrodisiac for her. Even now, as she was being reprimanded by her conscience, she was thinking about how she could simply undo the front of Max's trousers and, in a single stroke, he could be inside her. But as the recognition of her responsibility to look after Jake reasserted itself, Max's suggestion of a harmless kiss or two began to seem like a reasonable compromise. Besides, even if it fell short of being raunchy sex, it was still likely to be enjoyable...

"Okay then," she whispered, moving her face towards Max's lips, which were slightly parted in anticipation of making contact with hers.

Max watched as Millie closed her eyes and moved in to receive his kiss. He own lips curled into a slight smile at how he'd lured her to this point of intimacy despite Jake's proximity. But how much further could he get her to take it? He needed more proof that he had her where he wanted her. At the very second he felt that first hint of the moistness of her lips approaching his own, he abruptly pulled away. He observed her bewilderment and disappointment as the lips she so eagerly craved were so inexplicably denied her. A little murmur of frustration rose in her throat. Max moved in again, encouraging her to try a second time. Once more he led her to the brink before denying her again. This time, her brown eyes opened and looked into his, questioning and pleading, so eloquent of her need. His sense of power over her was restored, his desire to possess her now immense. This time when she moved in to kiss him, Max's lips were responsive and as hungry as her own.

As they kissed, Max slid his hand under her loose cotton shorts and worked them back around the curve of her buttocks. Sliding the hand back around under her thigh, he let his fingers dip into the wetness between her legs. So wet, and so inviting. Millie shuddered with pleasure at this unexpectedness intrusion, and Max knew that from this point he could do whatever he wanted to her.

The flushing of the loo and the creaking of a door brought them both back to earth. Jake must be awake and he was moving through the house.

Max groaned in frustration, his passion stopped in its tracks. As much as he wanted to put Jake in his place, he knew that providing his boss's son with a live sex show was taking things too far.

"Damn!" said Millie, pausing to give Max one final kiss before they detangled.

Max held her face in his hand, and opened his mouth to utter a similar frustrated curse, but as his eyes met hers, he lost his train of thought. It seemed that their gaze had become locked, and neither could turn away. What he was feeling confused Max. He got that sense again that she had some power over him, but didn't feel as threatened by it as before, because it was obvious he had the same hold over her.

"Millie, I..." he began.

"Yes?" she jumped in eagerly. Too eagerly for Max's liking, like she was expecting something from him. He felt like they were teetering on the edge of the type of territory he had promised himself he would never enter into with anyone. And he simply couldn't cope with that. He stepped back from her.

"Maybe we can finish this tonight. What time's _he _leaving?'

If Millie were disappointed by Max's backdown, she didn't show it. She'd learnt to hide how she felt when it came to Max. "Well before you finish work," she replied smoothly.

Max helped Millie down from the bench and she straightened her robe as he grabbed their now luke warm coffees.

Jake came through the door, spotted Max and said coldly "You here?"

"Jake!" chastised Millie. "Excuse me a moment," she said brushing past Max and making her way to the loo.

"Sorry. Morning Max."

"Morning Jake. I hope you're well." Max's tone dripped with insincerity.

"Very much so. Aren't you off to work today?"

"I'm going there now. I just had something I wanted to give Millie on the way."

"Oh right. Say hello to my dad for me, won't you?"

"I will. Still holding onto the vain hope of something happening between him and Millie?" .

For the first time in Max's recollection, Jake didn't wince at this. "I don't know," he retorted triumphantly. "Maybe Dad's found someone else."

Max thought this response was very interesting...

Later than morning a group of Sun Hill's officers were called out to a crime scene and Max noticed the DI and DC Grace Dasari standing together as he drove up. It occurred to Max that they were standing rather too closely to each other. There was something about the way they interacted that suggested to him what was going on went beyond mere workmates chatting or conferring. Neil's awkwardness a few minutes afterwards as Max approached him was all the confirmation he needed. So this was what Jake had meant!

He couldn't resist saying when he encountered Grace soon after, "Grace! You look different somehow. Did you do something to your hair?"

Grace's reaction told him he had met his mark.

On his way to Millie's after a day spent teasing Grace and lording it over Terry that he'd escaped to confess his drug use to Neil, Max reflected that his first day back at work hadn't been so bad after all.


	14. Affairs of the Heart

**A/N Firebird...what can I say really? Thanks yet again :) And please MissLa, get yourself a chair before reading this one!**

DS Max Carter and DC Terry Perkins were sitting together in the car in silence, much as they had those four long months ago the day before Max had requested his leave. But the frames of mind of the car's two occupants were quite different to then. Max was sitting sullenly in the passenger seat with a hand tucked underneath his left armpit and the pained expression of someone with bad indigestion on his face. Terry read that expression and was taking a shameful pleasure in it. Max's incessant gloating about how Terry had missed his chance of exposing Max's drug habit to the DI had all but turned Terry's disapproval of Max to outright loathing. To see Max thus brought down pleased Terry no end, and he was figuring out a way he could make the most of it.

"What's up, Max?" he asked. "Feeling a bit green around the gills this morning are we?"

Max glared back at him. "This is your fault you know! If you hadn't offered me that doughnut…"

"Not blaming the poor doughnut, are you? That does seem a bit unfair. After all, you're a copper. Eating doughnuts is part of the job description. Or maybe you're just not cut out for this line of work?"

Max really wasn't in the mood for this. Whatever the medicinal benefits of cocaine were, curing dyspepsia was obviously not one of them. That coke he'd done while Terry was off buying the aforementioned doughnuts had, if anything, made him feel worse. And then he'd stupidly accepted the offered doughnut thinking that having something on his stomach might cure his ills. He snapped back at Terry, "I don't know about you, mate, but I didn't join the force to sit around in cars eating doughnuts! If you remember, I started out in CO19, and we liked to keep ourselves in shape there!"

Terry's eyes lit up at this golden opportunity to really get stuck into Max by asking him to elaborate on what exactly had happened to his career ambitions. But he decided not to push it. Max's physical fragility made him too easy a target, and where was the fun in shooting fish in a barrel?

"Sorry, I'd forgotten," he said.

Max noted that Terry had given up that particular argument easily, but he wasn't about to be provocative either. Even the minor aggravation of the last words he'd spat out to Terry had seemed to worsen this sick feeling he had.

"Anyway," Max grumbled, "I don't know how you put that rubbish into your body. Do you have any idea what it's doing to you?"

Terry rolled his eyes. "I'm being lectured about the unhealthiness of my lifestyle by a drug addict? Give me a break!"

"Woah, woah, for starters, as you well know, I am not an addict. And I'm sure the occasional use of recreational drugs does a lot less harm to your body than a lifetime of eating junk like that!"

"Occasional use of recreational drugs? Max, mate, you're living in La-la-land! Who are you trying to kid?"

Terry's patronising tone made Max's blood boil again. But the rising wave of nausea this brought on persuaded him he needed to calm down.

"Look, whatever - they're your arteries. But you mark my words. Keep eating like that, it will kill you one day."

"I'll bear that in mind," said Terry calmly, as he turned to look out the window. He felt he'd amused himself at Max's expense enough, for a while anyway.

Max put his hands over his eyes and stretched himself out as best he could in the limited space he had in the passenger seat. God, he wished he were somewhere else! Actually, he wished instead of getting up to come to work today he'd stayed in the snug security of what was now, since Andrew turned six months old and moved into a room of his own, his and Millie's bed. There he could be either sleeping through his pain or lying with his head against Millie's breast as she softly stroked his hair and reassured him he would be well again soon. And he had no doubt her holding him would make him better. Millie was gifted like that, Max reflected. It was what made her such a fantastic mother and Andrew such a happy, problem-free baby.

He absently rubbed his chest again before taking his phone out of his pocket to check if he'd missed any calls or messages from Millie. But there was nothing, not yet anyway. Communications between Max and Millie had changed significantly since his and Terry's previous car vigil. Their texts and phone calls were no longer tentative, nor were they solely concerned with Andrew. If Millie texted to ask if he was coming to visit, this simple question was now laden with longing and suggestive promises. Similar connotations were projected to her if he should text to let her know he was intending to stay the night. And one such text led to another; texts detailing their desire or need for each other, or what they could spend their time to doing once they were together. Neither of them shied away from expressing what they were feeling, but their interactions were always about sex, never about love. Love was an emotion they only acknowledged in relation to their child. Any need they had for each other, they would have claimed, was simply to do with lust.

Whatever it was that drew Max and Millie together, everything seemed to be working according to the plan Max had hatched all those months ago. He was firmly ensconced not only in Andrew's life, but in Millie's as well. No one could have convinced Max that he was anything other than a loner by nature, but he had come to appreciate and even rely on what Millie did for him. It was true she fed him and took care of everyday necessities like his washing and ironing, but apart from that, Max had grown to depend on the other ways in which she nurtured and took care of him. For instance, when it was his birthday, Millie had got Andrew to scribble on a card for him. Millie's thoughtfulness and the care and subterfuge she had used to organise this and keep it secret until the day had all but moved him to tears. This reminded Max of the one time he could recall Millie losing her cool. Watching a suspect being fingerprinted had given Max the idea of getting Andrew to put his own little handprints on a card for Millie's own birthday, which was not long after his own. So one day while Millie was at the shops, he had dipped Andrew's hands in food colouring and pressed them onto a card. All would have gone smoothly if Max had been more effective at washing the red colouring from Andrew's hands. As sick as he felt, he couldn't help but smile at the image of Millie charging into the sitting room yelling that they had to get Andrew to the doctors NOW, because he had blood under his fingernails. The penny had dropped before Max had had to ruin the surprise completely, and Millie had shed heartfelt tears over both Max and Andrew when she actually received the card, as if she had had no inkling of what they had planned. Max had to admire that. That day, with the presentation of Andrew's card and of the gold locket Max had bought her as his present, was one of the rare occasions Max felt like he managed to offer her something (non-sexual) that was solely for her benefit, not because there would be consequences that would benefit him.

Max knew that no one thought he was good enough for Millie, and might even say that because of his contrivances to secure her, that he was using her. But when he thought about the look on Millie's face that day, or each time he kissed her as a prelude to their making love, he was sure that she truly wanted whatever it was he provided for her. And surely that counted for something.

In so many ways, he and Millie had established what could be considered a 'regular' relationship. The majority of the time they were both very contented with what they had together. They co-operatively raised their child. When Max was not working, they were generally together, as Max spent his weekends and free days - as well as almost every night - at Millie's house. Anyone who rummaged through Millie's wardrobe and drawers would have discovered a permanent collection of Max's clothes, toiletries etc. housed there.

But no one ever did go through Millie's cupboards and uncover this, and even frequent visitors like Neil, Jake and Grace had no idea about the status of their relationship. Everybody knew Max was a regular fixture in his son's life, but what this meant for Max and Millie's relationship, not even Max and Millie themselves could define. It was not something they ever discussed. Max wasn't the type for in depth conversations, and Millie simply didn't want to think about it too deeply. She was content enough to go along with things as they were, provided it gave Andrew and her what they needed and seemed to benefit Max as well. And as she could tell herself that spending so much time with them was keeping Max largely on the straight and narrow, justifying the arrangement at this level was relatively easy to do.

With all of these foundations in place, Max was now asking himself whether or not he should move things along to Phase Two and ask Millie if she were ready for some sort of commitment. He was confident that she and Andrew were emotionally attached to him, but how could he be confident of them being a real 'family' unless something bound them legally as well? But was the time right? If Max went by the evidence of how their relationship functioned day to day, he felt the answer was yes. But one thing still troubled him. Why, if Millie were happy with the way things were between them, did she still stubbornly refuse to give anyone any indication that there was more to what they had than simply sharing a child? Max had never been comfortable with her friendship with Neil, but since Neil and Grace had been open with their relationship with her, why couldn't Millie let Neil at least know about what they had? Although he didn't know the particulars, Max gathered that the two relationships had basically begun simultaneously. Nowadays everyone knew about Neil and Grace and was happy for them. But no one knew about him and Millie.

The bile seemed to rise in his stomach as Max envisaged various negative responses from Millie if he chose to ask her. She might decide that they should take a step back and return to his regular afterwork visiting schedule rather than virtual cohabitation. Or she could appear to go along with it, then secretly take flight, thus severing the bond not only between the two of them, but between him and Andrew as well. Max imagined she might even laugh at him and mock him for his weakness, but then he realised he was turning her into his mother at that point, and she was no where near that pernicious.

He groaned. These ruminations were probably best left for another day when he was thinking more clearly. Surely they wouldn't have to sit in this car too much longer? It was now afternoon, and if all ran to plan he could make his way over to Millie's in only a few hours. He wished she'd call. Just knowing she was out there, thinking of him would have made this so much more bearable. Some days the messages Millie sent and the way they reminded him of the haven he'd found with her and Andrew were all that got him through (well, that and the odd line of coke...).

Just then there came the sound of footsteps running down the laneway towards their car.

"Is that us?" asked Terry, as Max had the better view.

Max checked out his window. "That's our guy all right. Come on!"

They both leapt out of the car and gave chase. Terry reported what was happening into his radio as they ran. The two men started out in step, but Max soon found himself unable to keep up. Even after so short a run, he was puffing and out of breath. And then the pain in his chest became tighter and he knew he didn't have the strength to run any further.

Max gasped but couldn't seem to catch his breath. Then he forgot why he was running. He realised he no longer cared if their suspect had gotten away; that suddenly seemed to matter very little in the scheme of things. And then, as he staggered forward, the knowledge that it was too late to stop the crushing sensation that was building in his chest truly hit him. He started anticipating a slideshow of his life flashing before his eyes, but instead he got a vision of the future he had forfeited his share in, the future of his son and of a woman he realised meant more to him than he was ever willing to admit. An enormous feeling of emptiness swept over him, and all he could think about was Andrew and Millie, and how he was never going to see them again...

It took Terry a little while to realise Max was no longer running beside him, and he turned around to look for him just in time to see Max clutch at his chest and fall, with his face seemingly frozen in an expression of astonishment, as his failing heart convulsed in one final agonising wrench before it simply gave up pumping.


	15. Life or Death

AN Sorry about leaving you (and Max) in limbo. I've been busy moving house.

(i)

Max's body lay crumpled on the ground where he had fallen. His mobile phone gave one sudden, sharp ring before vibrating its way free of his breast pocket and coming to rest on the concrete beside him. Wherever the essence of what had been Max was at that point in time, it may have been granted some sense of peace knowing that Millie was thinking of Max even as his heart gave out.

Terry hurried towards him, radioing for an ambulance as he went. Once he was at Max's side, he knelt down and rolled him into recovery position to check him over. He searched frantically for signs of life, but could find none. As much as he disliked Max, confirming his worst fears about what had happened was the last thing he wanted. There was no disgrace in a copper going out in the line of duty, but like this? As a victim only of his own excesses? Even Max deserved better. There was a large dose of guilt mixed in with Terry's reaction. He was reproaching himself for not having done the braver thing and telling Neil Manson what was going on with Max all those months ago. Being sacked or suspended might have forced Max to confront his habit. But instead he and Max had played this stupid game of bluff, and now perhaps it was all too late.

Terry's eyes turned towards the heavens as if he were offering up a prayer before he set about doing what he could to restore Max to life. He shifted Max onto his back in preparation to perform CPR until the ambulance arrived and as he did he noticed Max's mobile lying on the ground beside him. Who knew what seedy associations Max's call list could reveal? Terry slipped it into his own pocket for safe-keeping. Even if he were too late to save Max's life, perhaps he could still protect his reputation.

Mickey and Banksy, who were working on the same case as Max and Terry, came bounding around the corner responding to Terry's radioing that the suspect was making a run for it. They both stopped in their tracks when they saw Max.

"Is he okay?" puffed Mickey. He knew about Max's cocaine use and made an educated guess at what had transpired.

Terry searched once more for Max's pulse, again in vain. He shook his head.

Banksy had no idea what was going on. He surveyed the scene for blood and couldn't see any, but still asked, because he couldn't think of any other logical reason for Max lying there unconscious, "Has he been shot?"

"Mickey, you explain. That thug's going to get away if you don't get after him. We should try to catch him - for Max - don't you think?" said Terry. "I'll be fine until the ambulance gets here."

Mickey and Banksy nodded resolutely and took off again.

A van full of uniform officers turned up. Most of them gawked as DC Perkins worked to revive the motionless DS Carter before starting off in pursuit of the runaway felon. Nobody knew what to do or how to feel. Max was not popular with either CID or the Relief these days, so no one saw this as a personal loss, but nonetheless, Max was one of their own and they wondered if they ought to care more. Roger was one of the last out of the van. He had many reasons for not being a fan of Max's. But then he thought about how, if Max died, that gorgeous little ginger-haired son of his would be semi-orphaned and Millie would be left to raise him entirely on her own. Roger immediately knelt down beside Terry and started attempting to breathe some life back into Max's lungs while Terry pumped away at his chest.

There was the sound of brakes screeching to a halt, and Neil and Grace came rushing over. They beat the ambulance crew to the scene by a matter of seconds.

"Terry! What's going on?" demanded Neil. He and Grace had heard Terry on the radio saying there was an officer down and had made their way to where he was on the double. When Neil saw Max lying there, it was as if someone had slapped him in the face. Losing any member of the team was bad enough, but for it to be Max presented all sorts of other complications he didn't want to contemplate.

Before Terry could respond, the ambulance crew were wheeling their equipment over to the scene. They paraphrased the same question.

"What have we got here?" asked one paramedic, as he and a colleague shuffled in beside Terry and Roger to take over the proceedings. "Anyone else hurt?"

Terry stood up and shook his head.

"Do you know what happened?" The paramedic asked directly to Terry now, having identified him as the person with the answers.

"Um, probably a heart attack…"

"He's had heart problems before?"

"Not that I know of. But he'd been complaining of indigestion."

"How old is he?"

"Mid, late thirties."

"Any pre-existing medical conditions?"

"Not to my knowledge, but…"

"Okay. Do you know if he's taking any medication?"

Terry knew he no choice now but to spill Max's long kept secret. It was something he didn't relish doing like this, in front of everyone, including the notoriously explosive DI. But, no matter what the consequences were for him in terms of bearing the full brunt of DI Manson's wrath, he had to speak up. What he knew might provide the information that could keep Max alive.

"No, but he, um, he took recreational drugs."

Terry's eyes had remained focused squarely on the paramedic as he spoke. Even so, he could sense there were jaws dropping all around him. And he could almost swear he could feel Neil's blood pressure rising…

"He's a drug user?" clarified the paramedic. "What kind? How frequently and for how long?"

"Cocaine and I'd say he was an almost daily user. Probably for, um, a little over a year."

"Why didn't..." started Neil before Grace silenced him by placing a hand on his arm and whispering sternly, "Not now."

Neil's mouth snapped shut. Terry was grateful that Grace was on hand to keep Neil reined in.

"Right, let's see what we can do," the paramedic said, narrowing his attention back to Max. His colleague took the defibrilator in hand and Max convulsed as they attempted his shock his body back to life.

The officers all moved out of the way, grateful to leave the job to the paramedics. As quick as Terry and Roger had been to help, neither really wanted the responsibility for Max's life or death on their hands. Neil fixed his eyes on Terry and began to make his way towards him. Terry narrowly escaped the DI's apparently inevitable tirade a while longer when one of the ambulance officers approached him to ask a few further questions.

Neil kicked at the ground in frustration. He could really use someone to yell at at this point. Venting his rage in that way might just quell the shameful urge he had to lay into the prostrate Max with feet or fists, the only way he could think of to really drive it home to him just how unbelievably stupid, reckless and ungrateful he had been. Here he was, healthy, in the prime of his life, with a job he loved, and the blessing of a wonderful son he adored and was raising with the woman that Neil seriously considered to be the best mother he had ever known. And he had risked all this for what - a few not-so-cheap thrills? In the absence of someone to shout at, Neil found that watching the paramedics slapping Max's body around as if he were just a piece of meat as they worked to resuscitate him strangely satisfying. The mortification of the flesh for the good of the soul, Neil mused. Probably the only kind of lesson that someone as arrogant and self-deluded as Max could ever learn from. But Max's soul was now all but a lost cause. Most likely it had flown and left that failing body for good. And who could blame it?

Neil knew that if Max did die, it wouldn't affect him terribly much. There would be a vacancy for a Detective Sergeant at Sun Hill to fill, but he personally wouldn't really miss Max beyond that. He thought it was rather sad that he could care so little for someone that he interacted with on an almost daily basis. What did move him was the sense of the incredible waste of it all. That, and the potentially disastrous effects that Max's absence from the world would have on two people for whom he cared very deeply. Andrew and Millie were the ones most likely to suffer as a consequence of Max's recklessness. Especially Andrew. He was only seven months old, which meant that any memories he had of Max would quickly fade. How would he ever truly know how much his father had loved him? And why should he believe it when people told him this, when the evidence was that his father had cared so little for him he had indulged a dangerous drug habit to the extent that it caused his heart to fail? What loving father could self-destruct like that, and leave his boy behind? _Stupid, stupid Max_, Neil thought again. Not only would he miss out on all those special moments of his son's life, he was also depriving his son of the legacy of his love.

Neil was sure Andrew would want for nothing with Millie as his sole parent, but a boy needed a manly influence in his life. Millie had no brothers to take on that role. Neil swore to himself that he would do what he could for the lad, and he was sure Jake would rise to the challenge as well, but that was never going to be the same to Andrew as having his own father. It had been hard enough for him and Jake when Philippa had moved with Jake to Spain, but then there was always phone calls and the opportunity for reunion. Probably now Andrew and Max would never have that. Neil wondered if in his dying moments, Max had considered any of this. And somehow he was sure that Max had and Neil found himself sympathising with Max just a little. Max's loss made him determined to make the most of his relationship with him own son. Once he was finished with all this, he promised himself he would give Jake a call.

But there were many things to consider before he could speak to Jake. Millie for instance. How would she react when she heard what had happened? Neil remembered how for most of her pregnancy, Millie had refused to name her baby's father, determined that it was best that she raise her child alone. And then Max had found out it was him and had embraced the title so wholeheartedly that Millie had let any concerns she had about him be forgotten and allowed him equal parenting rights. And for all she denied it, Neil was sure Millie's feelings for Max had grown stronger over the course of time. He and Grace had on several occasions remarked that Millie cared for Max more than she was letting on. Would she feel betrayed when she found out just how Max had died? Neil suspected that now, even if by some miracle Max did get through this, all he had would be gone anyway; his job, his health, and most likely contact with the son he adored. And whatever relationship he had developed with Millie. If Neil knew Millie at all, he was sure she couldn't forgive Max for using drugs around her son.

Live or die, Neil thought sadly, everything that Max and Millie had built together around the son stood to be lost.

The paramedic finished with Terry, leaving him vulnerable to the onslaught he was expecting from the DI. Neil was calmer than Terry had anticipate, having been momentarily soften by his tender thoughts. Nevertheless, Terry did feel the DI starting to bristle slightly.

"So," stated Neil evenly. "Max had been taking drugs and you knew."

Terry nodded.

"Why didn't you say anything to me?"

"I thought you knew. I thought Max had told you, and that's why you approved his leave. I didn't know until he returned from leave that you didn't know, and by then any proof I had that he was still using was gone."

Neil sighed deeply. It was easy to see Terry's perspective, damn it! If he wanted an excuse to let that temper flare up again, this wasn't it.

"Were you the only person who knew?" he continued.

Jo, Mickey and Banksy returned. Neil sensed straight away there were silent communications happening between them and Terry. Had they all been aware of the situation and deliberately kept it from him? Neil conjured up the possibility of Max's habit being station-wide knowledge, unknown only to himself (and probably Grace, who he believed would have told him). He felt his blood starting to boil again.

"So, you all knew about Max's habit then?" he muttered.

"Not me, Guv," replied Bansky, and from the expression on his face Neil had no doubt he was telling the truth.

Jo and Mickey said nothing.

"Right, I take that as a 'yes' from both of you, then?"

Having got out of replying the first time, Mickey and Jo both felt obliged to answer this time with a simple nod.

"How is Max?" asked Jo calmly. Jo had worked with Neil for a long time and was familiar with his rages, and she wasn't going to let the threat of one intimidate her. She knew her best defence was to rise above it and stick to the job at hand.

"They're working on him now," replied Terry quietly.

Neil thought Terry and Jo both sounded remarkably confident, considering the thin ice on which they were all currently skating.

"Don't you think that instead of standing here gossiping, you should all be trying to apprehend the man Max died trying to save?" he snapped.

Jo turned to Neil and said without so much as blinking, "Sir, Ben and Nate have managed to apprehend him, and he's been taking down to the station for questioning."

Jo's response had been so unflinching and fearless that it very nearly pushed Neil into full flight. But then the soothing, rational voice of Grace interceded before his anger could erupt. "Someone needs to inform Max's next of kin," she said.

Neil rubbed his eyes with his hands, "Right, I suppose that's his mother. Mickey, can you organise for someone to visit Mrs. Carter, and take her to the hospital, if Max, er, it's appropriate. Now…"

"What about Millie?" interjected Roger. "Do you think someone should tell her? Even if she's not his family, her son is."

Neil regarded Roger with a look of incredulity. Did he dare to presume that he was the only one around here who was concerned about Millie? Roger had certainly put himself in the role of Millie's defender in the past, but surely he realised that Neil also had her best interest at heart. Roger narrowly escaped having all the pent up frustration and vitriol spared Terry, Jo and Mickey aimed squarely at him. Instead he was treated to a heavy dose of Manson-brand sarcasm.

"Thank you, Roger, for explaining Max's family ties. Of course someone is going to tell Millie; in fact, _I _am going to tell her as soon as I've got all of you lot doing something other than standing around getting in the poor paramedics' way!"

As if on cue, the paramedics started to push past them and head towards to ambulance.

"Right, he's stabilised, enough to get him to St. Hugh's anyhow," the paramedic reported.

The Sun Hill officers breathed a collective sigh of relief. Terry rubbed his eye with his thumb and swore to himself that from here on in he would actively do what he could to help Max rather playing stupid games with him, while Neil thanked whatever powers that be there were that at least he had been spared delivering the ultimate bad news to Millie and her son.

"Would someone like to go to the hospital with him?" Neil asked absently, his mind having moved on from anger and worry to what he would say to Millie.

"I will," offered Terry, ready to prove to himself he was true to his word.

"Right then, I'll head off…" Neil turned to walk away.

"Maybe someone should go with you, Guv. Grace?" suggested Terry.

Neil spun back around to face the others. When he thought about it, he felt he could really make use of Grace's support for this one. And, not being as close to Millie as he was, she might be able to keep an eye on practical things, like making calming cups of tea, that he might overlook if Millie was very upset.

"Perhaps you're right," he said. "You ready to go, Grace?"

"Yes, of course." Grace nodded to the others before following Neil to the car.

"Do you think Grace being there is a good idea?" Jo asked Terry as he was hopping into the ambulance. "Millie might see it as Grace butting in between her and Neil."

"I wasn't thinking about Millie," Terry said. "I was thinking more that the DI would need someone there to calm him down when he discovers that Millie knew about Max's habit."


	16. The Next Of Kin

(i)

Neil was hardly even aware that Grace was sitting in the car beside him. All he could think about was the double blow he was about to deal to Millie. Which one should he start with? Max's close shave with death, or the resulting revelation that Max was a drug addict, and had very likely been one even before Andrew's conception? Poor Millie. Even when she had her sizable crush on Max, would she have let herself be seduced by him, then agree to include him in the life of the child that resulted from that liaison had she known about his cocaine use? Neil didn't think that she would have. For all her acceptance of Max's flaws, Millie was fiercely protective of her son. She would hardly entrust him to a drug-addicted father.

Grace looked over at Neil and thought that there may as well have been a million miles between them. But she couldn't resent his preoccupation. She was almost as concerned about the fallout from the day's events as he was. Other couples might seek to ease this type of burden by discussing it, but Grace knew Neil well enough to recognise that the power of speech was beyond his capabilities right now. He was exceptionally reserved by nature, and all the emotions that were whirling around inside him as a result of what had happened – anger, concern, guilt, frustration, even grief – were overloading him to the extent that he simply had to retreat entirely into himself. No use trying to pressure him for a comment, or even being offended that he was shutting her out. Grace knew when she had committed herself to him that intimate confidences or great outpourings of emotions were not really on the cards. All she could do was wait there until he needed her, her hand within his easy reach.

Neil stopped the car opposite Millie's house and he and Grace crossed the street to her front door. Grace thought how peaceful a neighbourhood this was. She didn't suppose that anyone around here expected anything as dramatic as what they were about to tell Millie to occur in their lives. But being a police officer, Grace knew better. She had learnt that every day, terrible things happened to the least deserving of folk. Grace was certain Millie would have learnt this also. And, if she hadn't, it was about to be driven home to her with a vengeance.

Neil pressed the doorbell. The buzz remained unacknowledged for longer than they expected. Neil smiled uncomfortably at Grace.

"Maybe she's out," he conjectured. He didn't say this with any sense of relief. He wanted to update Millie on the situation as soon as he possibly could. He hoped to god that no other messenger had got to her before him, especially not the notoriously malicious Mrs. Carter.

But Millie wasn't out, and soon they heard the sound of footsteps running down the hallway towards the door. Millie opened the door in a visibly cheerful mood. When she had heard the doorbell, she had presumed it was Max paying her a visit in response to her text. Her first thought on seeing Neil and Grace in his place was that she was glad that Andrew's refusing to nap had meant that she hadn't come to the door in something slinky and revealing, as she had planned to do. Then, as she took in the sight of Grace and Neil standing there looking somber on her doorstep in the middle of the day, she knew something was wrong. And it didn't take her long to work out with whom.

"What's happened?" she asked.

"Millie, can we come in?" said Neil, taking one of her hands and gently pushing her back into her house.

Millie knew too well what was behind this technique. They were trying to get her into the house as quickly as they could, where she could be seated and teas could be made, where she wouldn't express her hysterical grief in the hearing of the neighbours.

What had happened must be very bad indeed.

"It's Max isn't it?" she stammered. "Is he okay?"

"Please, Millie. Come sit down" said Grace, lightly touching Millie's other arm as they reached the sitting room.

"Right, I'm really scared now. Tell me, what is it?"

Neil guided her towards the sofa. He and Grace sat either side of her.

"Millie, today Max was chasing a suspect and, well, it seems he's had some sort of heart attack. They've managed to revive him, but it's still touch and go. I'm, um, I'm sorry."

Neil had expected tears, but instead Millie sat looking stunned. He had envisioned at this point he would draw her to him and let her sob onto his shoulder, but now that just seemed inappropriate. So instead he planted a hand on her knee and waited for her next reaction.

Millie simply didn't know how to react. Her hand unconsciously reached for the golden heart-shaped locket that she had worn around her neck ever since Max had given it to her for her last birthday. She would have much preferred an oval shaped locket, as a heart had always struck her as a bit too obvious and twee. But she knew why Max had chosen the heart. It would have been because that's what he thought women were supposed to like. How typical of him, she thought at the time, to trust what Hallmark cards told him about women rather than attempting to really get to know the flesh and blood woman with whom he shared a child and a bed. But the clumsiness of it endeared Max to her more than if he had asked her what she wanted. He had wanted to surprise her, to bestow on her a token that conveyed more sentiment and affection than Max with his perverted take on human emotion would ever have the courage to express in words. It was like the embodiment of her relationship with Max fashioned in intricate gold. How could she not treasure such a symbolic trinket?

She looked up to see Neil and Grace observing her anxiously. Suddenly aware of her fidgeting, she let her fingers release her locket. But this only left her feeling bereft. If Neil and Grace had been two anonymous officers, she might have jumped to her feet and demanded they take her immediately to Max's side, where she would have clutched him to her as if her embrace would keep him safely on this side of life, but knowing them as she did she felt too self conscious. Instead she did the next best thing to holding Max and scooped their son from the floor and clasped him to her bosom.

"But…he's alive?" she asked.

Neil didn't believe in offering platitudes, especially not to Millie. He felt he owed her complete disclosure of his understanding of Max's condition at the very least. "He was, last report I had," Neil replied carefully. "But his heart..."

Millie spoke without thinking. "It was the cocaine, wasn't it?"

This question took Neil (and Grace) by surprise. Neil had thought the news of Max's drug use would almost be more of a shock to Millie than his heart attack. He presumed Max had been indulging his habit behind her back. And now here was Millie telling him she was already aware of it.

"You…knew about that?" There was no warmth in Neil's voice. He didn't become immediately antagonistic towards her, but rather withdrew any emotion until he was certain what his feelings towards her should be. A part of Neil was still praying that Millie's answer would indicate she'd just made a lucky guess.

"Yes," Millie's voice quavered. It was dawning on her what consequences there could be as a result of her admission.

Neil snatched his hand away from her and fixed his eyes on the floor. He didn't know how he should react. He felt betrayed. The anger he had suppressed at the scene of Max's heart attack surging up again inside him. "How long have you known?" he asked.

"A while," said Millie cautiously, not sure what Neil was going to do next. It was natural that finding out that she had kept Max's drug taking from him would upset Neil. If only she had trusted him enough to be open with him from the start. Perhaps there was still hope of salvaging things if she were honest with him now?Completely honest. Not just about what she knew about Max, but about her own part in it too. "That's how we had Andrew. Max and I took…"

Neil's eyes darted up from staring at the floor to look squarely into Millie's. When she met them she saw none of the care or compassion with which he had come to her to deliver his news today. His eyes were so full of fury that Millie shrank back from him.

"You took cocaine with Max the night Andrew was conceived?" Neil asked this steadily and coolly. Grace felt it was more like being with him interviewing a subject than talking to his beloved friend.

"Yes." Millie was clutching Andrew so tightly by this stage, the boy had started to try to struggle free.

Neil fired his next question. "You, a policewoman, took an illegal substance with a colleague?"

"Yes."

"You're saying that not only did you hide the drug habit of one of my officers from me, you were taking drugs yourself?"

"Only once…" faltered Millie.

Neil drowned her out, determined to continue his interrogation.

"And then you kept not only that a secret, but also Max's continued drug use, even though he was still working? Even though he was a member of my team?"

"I didn't want to get him into trouble. You know…"

"Oh! You didn't want to get him into trouble!" Neil echoed, his tone bitingly sarcastic. "Well, what about the people he was working with? Did you care about the trouble he might get them into? Did you think about that?"

"Well, I…"

Grace remained seated nearby, chewing on her lip. She felt she should be supporting Millie, but she didn't dare to speak. The extent of Neil's anger was all too apparent.

Neil continued, "So, the very person I was closest to - at that time -" he added in deference to Grace, "deliberately and willfully hid from me the fact that one of the officers under my command had a severe drug habit? So, for all that time, he was endangering the lives of any other officers he worked with, including the woman I love. Not to mention the effects his drug use could have had on you and Andrew!"

Neil stood up. So did Millie, who handed Andrew to Grace and reached out to Neil.

"Don't touch me!" Neil recoiled from Millie's outstretched hand. "Don't say a word! Don't even look at me. Right now...God! I can't bear to look at you! Grace, you can take care of Millie from here. I should have been at the hospital comforting Mrs. Carter instead of wasting my time here."

Neil walked out, slamming the door behind him. Millie started to sob. Grace put Andrew in his play pen and knelt down and tried to soothe her.

"Don't worry Millie, he's just very upset at the moment. I'm sure he'll calm down."

But there were few times in her life she had ever been as unsure of anything. Meeting Millie's eyes, she saw that Millie knew as well as she did just how uncertain the future of her friendship with Neil was. She swiftly changed the topic.

"You know, you don't seem to me like the type to take drugs."

Millie took a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. "I'm not really. I was just stupid that night."

"What happened?"

Millie sighed, as if even thinking about the events of that night wearied her. "Well, I bumped into Max in a bar. He made comments about the crowd there, I got angry and made some dumb remark about how most people, including me, had experimented with drugs when they were young. Anyway, we both got very drunk, and he lured me back to his place and after all my boasting I didn't think I could back down when he offered me some coke."

"I see. Then one thing led to another..."

"...and we had sex and I got pregnant."

Grace gave Millie a sympathetic smile. "Well, I suppose you're not the only couple to fall foul of a one night stand. But, at least you two seem to get on all right now."

Millie rubbed her nose with her hand and smiled back. She had been feeling an increasing closeness to Grace since that latter's relationship with Neil had begun. It seemed to Millie that this conversation meant more to Grace than simply fulfilling the liaison role her boss had assigned her. She gave the impression of being truly concerned, and on top of that, non-judgmental. And Millie really needed to talk to someone about Max.

"The thing is, Max and I have been, um, seeing each other for a few months now…"

"Oh," replied Grace. Although Millie's confession was unexpected, it wasn't a complete surprise to the ever observant Grace. "Was it…serious?"

"Hmm, who can say? I guess so. I don't know what he felt, but a few things made me think he might even, you know, like me a bit."

"And how do you feel about him?"

Millie's hand went to her locket again. "Oh, I don't know. I wanted to keep it casual. But now, now that he might…The thought of losing him is, well, I think I...I think I care from him more than I thought."

Grace put a hand on each of Millie's shoulders. "If that's the case, let's get you to the hospital. You should be at the side of the man you love."

Millie blushed at Grace's use of that word, but she nodded. "Um, Grace, what I said about Max…"

"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."

"Thanks. Though I did wonder...do you think it would do any good for me to mention to Neil about Max's and my relationship?"

Grace paused before answering. This suggestion made it clear just how muddled Millie's judgement must be. "You know what, I don't think so," she replied. "Let's just keep that one between you and me."

(ii)

Neil got himself out Millie's front door and behind the wheel of his car in something of a daze. What he had just heard he could hardly fathom. His stable, sensible friend, Millie, taking drugs with Max Carter? Knowing about Max's continued drug use and allowing Max access to her precious son? Millie, whom he had let get closer to him than anyone in recent times apart from Grace, keeping the reality of Max's situation a complete secret from him, despite knowing how relevant this detail would be to him as Max's boss? He just couldn't believe any of it. It wasn't just that Neil was disappointed in her, he now faced all sorts of dilemmas as to what to do with this information. He had reservations about revealing Max's addiction to the powers that be. He didn't relish doing anyone out of a job, especially not the parent of a young child. But wrestling with his conscience as to whether or not to report Millie for her use? That was something he never, ever wanted to face. But, would it be irresponsible of him not to report it?

His friendship with Millie was over, that much he knew. As much as the idea saddened him, there were no two ways about it. He could never forgive her for all those months of deceiving him.

Neil thought about Max and that smug expression he always seemed to wear around him, Grace and Jake. Of course he was smug. He was sharing something with Millie that he knew Millie would never share with anyone else, especially not Neil. Neil could handle that Millie and Max had been physically intimate. Their having slept together didn't mean that their relationship was any emotionally deeper than Millie and Neil's. But Max and Millie conspiring to keep something secret from him was a very different matter. All he could think about now was that every time Max had smirked at him, he'd been thinking _Millie's lying to you for me._

Neil walked into the main emergency ward and saw DC Mickey Webb and PC Mel Ryder ahead of him, wrangling between them a suitably distraught Mrs. Carter. When Mickey spotted Neil, he paused and nodded to him, causing Mrs. Carter to turn to see what was going on. When she saw Neil, she rushed towards him and grabbed him tightly on the arm.

"Where is he? Where's my son? What's happened to my Max?"

"Mrs. Carter, please, come and sit down. I'm sure the doctor will explain everything," said Neil, leading her to a bench. "Mel, if you could get a cup of tea."

Mel got up, sighing with relief. Neil imagined most people who had had to deal with Mrs. Carter responded like that once they'd escaped her.

Terry appeared with a doctor, and brought him over to speak to Neil and Mrs. Carter.

"Mrs. Carter, is it?" asked the doctor gently.

"Yes, yes," the old lady responded, jumping out of her seat. "How is my boy?"

"Now, I need you to be calm and listen to me, madam. Your son has had a massive heart attack, but luckily as he was able to get immediate assistance, thanks to his colleague here, and the paramedics, so we've managed to stabilise him. But, I'm sorry to say, he's not out of the woods yet."

"A heart attack?" Mrs. Carter was perplexed. "But my boy, he's young and he's fit. Why would he have a heart attack?"

Terry and Neil said nothing, hoping the other would broach the topic of Max's addiction with his mother. Luckily for both of them, Max's doctor obligingly took to the plate.

"I suppose you weren't aware then, Mrs. Carter, of your son's drug use?"

The handkerchief with which Mrs. Carter had been dapping her eyes and blowing her nose remained clutched in mid-air as what the doctor had just said began to sink in.

"Drugs? My Max? What drugs?"

"Cocaine to be precise. I'm sorry to have to break it to you, Mrs. Carter, but it was a bad enough habit to cause his heart to fail. Unfortunately, it's too early to tell what the long term consequences will be."

The flabbergasted expression on Mrs. Carter's face gradually began to disappear. Her eyebrows drew together and her lips narrowed.

"Drugs," she repeated.

The doctor nodded and continued. "Yes, Mrs. Carter, I'm afraid that your son will be quite weak for a while and in need of tender nurturing…"

He was cut off by Mrs. Carter's abrupt rising up from her chair.

"I have no son," she muttered.

The doctor was confused. "But I understood that DS Carter was..."

"No son of mine would take drugs. I may have brought him into the world, but he's not my son," she spat.

Terry, Neil and doctor gaped in astonishment.

"Mrs. Carter, he may have done the wrong thing, but Max needs you..." said Terry.

"You can look after him then, if you like," she countered, before she pointed a bony finger at Neil and said, "Or you, maybe you tell him he can get his slut to nurse him!" With that, she turned to leave.

He may have had words with both Terry and Millie that day, but on the whole, Neil felt he had pretty much bitten his tongue. At last he had the chance to unleash his vitriol on someone who deserved it. "You know, I've been feeling sorry for Max all day, but now I'm beginning to think this just might be the most fortunate day of his life" he said.

The sound of Neil's voice made the old woman stop.

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Because it looks like from today he'll finally be free of you, Mrs. Carter."

She spun around to face him.

"How dare you talk to me like that! I'll have your job! I have witnesses!"

She looked to Terry and Mickey. They both shrugged. When she saw they wouldn't support her, she turned to the doctor.

"I can see this lot will stick together, but you, you heard what he said to me…"

"Sorry?" responded the doctor, who had begun to intently pore over something in his notebook as soon as Neil started speaking. "I must have tuned out for while. Was something said?"

Mrs. Carter stamped her foot one final time before turning and continuing her departure from St. Hugh's. If she were of a more philosophical bent, she might have reflected on how twice in her life she had left the hospital as the mother of a new born baby, feeling proud at having fulfilled what she had always been told was her reason for being put on this earth. And that was to have a family, with children she would raise and who in turn would look after her and delight her with grandchildren in her twilight years. Now, roughly forty years later, she was being driven home to face an old age devoid of the comforts of family, both of those babies having grown up to disappoint her in ways she could never forgive. And for her remaining years she would sit in her chair by her fire, wondering aloud why she had been so cursed as to have borne such unworthy and selfish children, who had been so ungrateful as to desert her in her old age. And never, until the day she died, did she admit to herself, or anyone else who happened to listen, that it was actually she who had abandoned them.


	17. Various Conversations

AN: Many thanks, as always, to 'Team Max' and 'Team Neil', especially the latter for her medical insights & overall critiquing.

(i)

Terry wasn't sure why he kept sitting there. It wasn't as if Max would have appreciated his presence, had he been conscious. And if Max did wake up and see him seated at his bedside, Terry imagined that his first words would be something along the lines of "Piss off!". But still Terry felt compelled to stay. Max was such a pathetic sight, lying on his hospital bed, surrounded by all sorts of flashing and beeping devices, a tangle of tubes running in and out of his body. Having witnessed Mrs Carter's rejection of her son had taken Terry's feeling of responsibility for Max to a whole new level. That a parent could so savagely and resolutely turn their back on their offspring in their hour of need baffled Terry, and from the DI said, this behaviour was not at all out of character for Max's mother. Terry started to envision what Max's childhood must have been like. He knew from his own experiences what it felt like to be a frightened little boy, to have no one you could truly trust and count on. Aspects of Max's behaviour that had previous simply made him angry or indignant now seemed to almost make sense. As well as all this, his feelings of guilt about not having nipped Max's habit in the bud continued to linger. He should have acted back then - there were no two ways about it. Had he done so, he might be on his way home now instead of here, keeping vigil at his workmate's bed. And his workmate might not have been in this shadowland between life and death.

Watching Max, and listening to the regular (and regulated) sound of his breathing amplified by the machine that was aiding it, he thought about what his wife invariably told him at times like this. She would say that he lacked a sense of proportion, that it was always all or nothing with him. Either he was guilty of neglect or he went the other way and took his desire to become involved too far. Like the time he had taken his sense of obligation to his incarcerated brother's family to the extent of starting a relationship with his sister-in-law. Mistakes didn't really come much bigger than that. God, he was lucky that Helen had forgiven him for that one, and that his children had as well, and they could be almost like a normal family again. With Max, the best Terry could hope for was that in his own blundering way he could support Max through making the most of his second chance at life, that this near-death experience might convince Max he should accept a helping hand when it was offered.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He checked who was calling, and was not in the least surprised to see it was Neil Manson, who was probably back at Sun Hill by now. Terry ignored it, but he supposed it was about time he headed that way himself. He could stop by again later. With one final look at Max, he took his leather jacket from the back of the chair and left the ward.

(ii)

Millie and Grace sat silently in the back of the taxi with Andrew between them. Grace stole a glance across at Millie, who frowned as she fiddled with the sock on Andrew's left foot. Grace could only guess there was a crease in the sock, something she was sure was as unnoticeable to the contentedly wriggling and grinning Andrew as it was to her. But Grace could understand why Millie was fussing over her young son. It seemed to be Millie's method of coping. But how effective was it? Millie's revelation of her relationship with Max had made Grace even more concerned about Millie than she had been initially. Maintaining the charade of being nothing more than the mother of Max's child when she was in fact his lover would surely add to any burdens Max's bad health placed on her.

Grace reached her hand across Andrew and touched Millie's arm. "You okay?" she murmured.

Millie sniffed. "Yeah, thanks Grace. But, please, I think I'll do a lot better if I don't think about things. You know what I mean?"

"Of course I do, sorry."

Grace brought her hand back to rest at her side and turned to take in the sights of the drive to the hospital. They were all far too familiar for her to use them as any kind of meaningful diversion. It was a relief when she heard Millie addressing her.

"I don't suppose you've had an update about how Max is?" she asked.

Grace's mouth gaped, "Why, Millie, no! I would have told you straight away. Do you think I..?"

Millie smiled. "It's okay. I didn't mean to sound like I was accusing you of keeping secrets. It's just I thought perhaps you might have heard from Neil but didn't want to mention it because of, you know."

"It's true that I have a certain loyalty to Neil, but it doesn't extend to my falling out with friends simply because he has. I'm here to support you, Millie, and I'll do it as long as you need me to, Neil or no Neil."

"I appreciate that - I do, but I don't want to be the cause of any problems between you two. I'd understand completely if when we get to the hospital you just went your own way."

"I doubt Neil would have got into a relationship with me if he couldn't cope with my having a mind of my own. I'm sure we'll manage our difference of opinion until he comes to see sense and talks to you again."

"You seem confident he will," observed Millie hopefully.

"Oh, I am. Well, relatively. But let's not dwell on that now. We're nearly at the hospital. Neil can wait."

It was Millie's turn to gaze out the window. She really liked Grace and she considered her a friend, but she still wished Neil were there. His being by her side at times like this seemed so natural to her now. She sighed and thought that she couldn't bear to think deeply about Neil or analayse his behaviour right now. She had enough to worry about as it was.

(iii)

The automatic doors at the entrance to St. Hugh's parted, and Millie and Grace found themselves face to face with Terry. Seeing the two women there alleviated some of Terry's feeling of guilt at leaving Max to possibly wake up alone. He was a bit uncertain about seeing Millie, as their last meeting had been somewhat confrontational.

"Grace," he said, nodding to his CID colleague. "And Millie. How are you?"

"Oh, you know," said Millie quietly. She wished Terry hadn't asked her that question. Just as when Grace had asked it before, it only served to remind her of her misery.

"Yeah, I can imagine," replied Terry. He bent down and offered a finger to Andrew, who reached out to grab it seconds before Terry managed to snatch it away. The infant laughed with delight. "Actually, Millie, I don't know if now's the time, but there's something I've been wanting to say since that last time I saw you at Sun Hill. I never should have got on your case about Max, and I'm sorry."

"You were only doing what you believed to be the right thing," was Millie's gracious response. "And after what's happened today, I wish I'd listened to you. If I had..."

"If you had, what would be different? Do you think Max would have cared what anyone said? No, Millie, the fault's with me. I should have just gone to Neil Manson as soon as I found out about his habit."

"Can I just say that it's really not doing Max any good standing here discussing whose fault this is?" interrupted Grace. "I understand how you both feel, but now's not the time..."

"You're right," agreed Millie. "I just want to go to Max now and see how he is. You returning to Sun Hill, Terry? Perhaps you can take Grace with you?"

"It would be my pleasure," bowed Terry.

"Millie, are you sure?"

Grace worried that perhaps she hadn't made it clear enough to Millie that she wasn't about to be swayed by what Neil thought. Millie recognised this, and although she didn't want to make Grace feel her support wasn't appreciated, this reunion with Max was something she didn't want to share with anyone other than Andrew. She reached for Grace's hand.

"I am sure. Don't think for a second you're off the hook just yet. You can expect a call from me later for a lift home, if that's okay."

"I'll be waiting for it. Well, I suppose, you're right, I should get back to the office, and leave you to it. Take care, Millie." Grace kissed her cheek. Millie threw her arms around Grace's neck and kissed her in return.

"Thanks for everything. I'll call you. Bye Terry."

And with that she pushed Andrew's pram through the doors and into the hospital.

(iv)

Ten minutes later, Terry and Grace arrived at Sun Hill station. Terry found himself immediately beset upon by Roger and Jo, both eager to discuss the Max situation. Grace, meanwhile, headed up the stairs to her desk in CID. On her way she looked through the windows of Neil's office and saw him sitting there. She was tempted to keep walking and ignore him - she was annoyed at the way he had treated Millie after all. But then she took a second look at him and thought how miserable he looked. She knocked on his door.

"Come in," said Neil, initially paying little interest in who was at the door. He started when he realised it was Grace.

"Hi," he said, walking around his desk and pulling out a chair for her. "Where's Millie?"

"I took her to the hospital to spend some time with Max," said Grace calmly.

"Right. How is she?"

"As you'd expect," Grace's reply was deliberately succinct. Whilst she thought Neil's behaviour towards Millie was unreasonable (and slightly over-dramatic), she still loved the man and wasn't about to hang him without first giving him a fair trial. She wanted to see what he had to say before she got angry at him. "I accompanied her and Andrew to the hospital and got a lift back with Terry."

"Oh, right," mumbled Neil. He hadn't realised until then that in his haste to leave Millie's house, he had left Grace stranded there without transport. "So, any updates on Max?"

"None that I've heard. I basically dropped them off and headed back here. But Terry said that little had altered in the time he was there."

"Hmm, yes, Terry was at the hospital for quite some time. It's only right Millie should take over from here, I suppose." Neil sat back down at his desk and pointlessly straightened a few stray pages in a nearby case file. He wanted to ask Grace more questions, to find out more about Millie, Andrew and Max, but the wound from Millie's betrayal of him was still too fresh, and he was too proud to appear to have any interest.

Grace broke the brief pause that followed, "I hear Mrs. Carter put on quite a show."

"Indeed she did. My god! It's hard to believe that anyone could do that."

Grace knew it would be wiser to hold her tongue, but she couldn't. "Do what?" she asked. "Abandon someone they love simply because they took drugs?"

Neil was taken aback by Grace's accusation. He hadn't really worked out what Grace had thought of what had transpired between him and Millie. But he had, he realised, expected her to be on his side. "Now, come on Grace!" he protested. "You know there's more to it than that!"

"Is there? Please, elaborate. I don't quite understand why what Millie's done is so unforgivable."

Neil paced around his desk "Well, let me see, there's Jake for starters. How many times have I left my son in Millie's care, trusting that he was with someone responsible?"

"But Millie is very responsible," countered Grace.

"Is she? Didn't she admit to taking drugs?"

"One time…"

"It may have only been once, but, do I need to remind you, she was a serving member of the Met at the time. Was she so desperate to get Max into bed that she forgot all about that just to have him? But if that's not enough for you, what about all the times she was minding Jake and Max was around?"

"I admit that's more of a concern, but Millie assured me she never let Max anywhere near Andrew, or even in the house, with drugs in his system."

"But how can she be so sure of that? The man was able to fool us all for over a year, and we're supposed to be trained detectives!"

"Why worry about the 'what ifs'? The bottom line is that no harm came to either Jake or Andrew out of this. Millie managed to keep Max well and truly in line."

Neil, who had sat down behind his desk again, rubbed his eyes with his hands. He didn't want to argue and alienate Grace. He couldn't afford to lose both of the most important women in his life in the space of a day.

Grace read his thoughts and softened. She walked around the desk and wrapped her arms his neck.

"You know, even if you didn't pick up on Max's habit, that doesn't make you a bad father."

Neil placed a hand on the arm that was curled around him. "Jake's been through so much in the last year or so, Grace. How am I going to tell him about Millie? And how will he feel about not seeing Andrew?"

Grace sighed. "Is it really necessary that you cut ties with Millie because of this?"

"I can't forgive her, Grace. I've thought about it ever since I left her house, and I can't see a way around it."

"Well, I think that's a shame," Grace said quietly.

Neil closed his eyes and let his head fall against Grace's shoulder. After drinking in the reassuring scent of Grace's perfume, he asked. "How about you? Will you go on supporting Millie?"

"My boss assigned me a task, and I intend to fulfill it to my utmost," replied Grace. "I hope that won't affect things between you and me?"

Neil looked up at her and shook his head. He felt comforted knowing Grace wasn't going to dump him because they disagreed. And it made him feel better that his own girlfriend was keeping an eye on Millie. It went someway towards quelling that nagging feeling he had that he was deserting Millie when she most needed him.

(v)

Terry absently flicked through the pages of the case file on his desk. It was the file regarding the case on which he and Max had been working, the case that could still potentially be Max's last. He felt he should be satisfied knowing that they had caught the guy, and it looked like they had everything they needed to charge him to the full extent of the law.

So why did it all feel like such an anti-climax?

Mickey burst into the room and spied Terry sitting there thinking. He felt he needed some cheering up.

"Hey, what do you say about Max's mother, eh? What an old dragon! Almost made me feel sorry for him."

"Hmm," was all Terry said.

Mickey could see this wasn't a mood Terry could be jollied out of. "What's up, mate? If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were taking this whole Max business to heart."

Terry sighed. "I can't help but feel we're partly responsible for it."

"Is that what you think? Come on Terry, you're not beating yourself up about it, are you? Max is a big boy. He was well aware what he was risking by taking drugs. And we gave him several chances to come clean about it."

"But why would we have expected him to act responsibly?" questioned Terry. "He's a drug addict after all. Maybe it would have been better if we just turned him in?"

Mickey shrugged. "Maybe. But we didn't. And, you know, it's too late to worry about it now."

The door of Neil's office opened and Neil and Grace emerged. Neil headed to the stairwell to get himself a cup of tea, while Grace strolled towards her desk. She could see that Mickey and Terry talking.

"Can I take a guess at what you two are discussing?" she asked.

"Terry's beating himself up about Max," reported Mickey.

"Terry, you've done more than anyone would have expected of you..." she began.

"He won't listen," Mickey told her. "I can't believe it, he actually feels sorry for the prick."

"Max may be a prick, but imagine having a mother like that. Imagine going through what he is alone. Millie has a baby to look after. She can't devote herself to nursing him. And who else is going to do it?"

"You know," said Mickey. "I think I remember Max mentioning a sister. Perhaps we could track her down?"

"We could check out his P file," suggested Terry, brightening up. "Where would we find that?"

"The DI's office," said Mickey, looking over at Grace.

"Leave it with me," said Grace, sliding over to the doors of CID and checking that Neil was nowhere in sight. She then went into his unattended office and soon reappeared. "Here," she said, handing Terry a piece of paper.

"Alexandra Carter," he read as he squinted at the piece of paper. He picked up the phone and punched in the number. After about ten seconds, he looked up at Grace and Mickey and nodded.

"Hello, I was wondering if Alexandra Carter was there," he said. "Oh," he added, his face falling. "Well how long have you...Three years? Right thanks for your time...Oh, really? Well, it's a long shot, but if you still have it. Thanks." He covered the mouthpiece and reported to the others. "Apparently Alexandra left there about three years ago, but she did leave an address. He's just gone to see if he still...Hello? Yes? Great. Uh hu, uh hu. Thank you very much for your help, sir. Cheers."

He replaced the receiver with a look of triumph. "We have an address. It's in Poland, and it's a few years old, but it's worth a try."

"Let's hope she's not an habitual mover," remarked Grace.

"Right," said Mickey, rubbing his hands together. "We have the internet and all the resources of the Met at our disposal. Let's see what we can dig up."

(vi)

_All that Max was aware of at first was a regular 'bip bip' sound. He had absolutely no idea where he was, and it seemed that opening his eyes and checking were beyond his powers. As he breathed he became aware of strange feeling at his nostrils, like there was something pressed inside them. His arms and legs felt too heavy to shift._

_Pieces of the events of the day started to float through his mind: his argument with Terry, chasing the suspect, the indescribable pain in his chest and the sense of the world stopping around him as he lost consciousness. Was he dead? What he had gone through had felt like dying, or at least what he imagined dying to feel like._

_Gradually he was beginning to feel he could open his eyes. His lids made a few tentative flutterings at first, before they managed to muster the energy to fight through the claggy masses of his lashes and open to the light. Slowly things began to focus. He saw a bright light above him. Everything else seemed starkly bright and clean, almost like the room around him was metallic. Altering his gaze slightly, he realised there was an irregularity or two to the bright whiteness and silver of the scene around him. He rested his eyes on one particular form for a while until he was confident that it was what he hoped so much it was: a pram containing a baby. His own son._

_The smile that began to form on his lips might have been unnoticeable to the casual observer, but Max couldn't think of another time in his life when he had ever been filled with such a feeling of elation. He was alive, he was sure of it, and his son was there beside him._

_His gaze turned slightly and landed on a second figure, a woman, who had watched him closely enough to notice that smile appear, and who had responded to the sight with a much larger smile of her own and many tears. Knowing that she was there and that she was watching over him, Max felt a calmness come over him._

_A hand grasped his own tightly. He opened his mouth to speak, but discovered that his throat was parched and making any sound was painful. And suddenly he felt very tired. Still, before his body surrendered itself again to the rest it now craved, he managed to croak out a single syllable._

_"'Mill..." he said, as his hand responded with the minimal strength it had to the fingers that rested on it. And then, his head rolled back onto the pillow and he was asleep again._


	18. The Fallout

**A/N Thanks, Dr. F, for your input yet again :) And apologies for the chapters, and hence the overall story, being so long...**

(i)

Terry balanced the pen between his thumb and index finger and drummed out a beat on the desk as he waited for his call to be answered. Five beeps now. This wasn't very promising. He was on the verge of hanging up when someone lifted the receiver and spoke.

"Czesc," the voice said.

"Hello, um, sorry, but do you speak English?" asked Terry awkwardly.

"Who is this?" Terry was relieved to hear the woman spoke English like a native, and judging by her accent, probably was.

"My name's Detective Constable Terry Perkins. I work at Sun Hill police station in London with a Detective Sergeant Max Carter. I was hoping to speak to his sister, Alexandra."

"Well, you are." The reply was waspish and impatient. "I know you have your spiel to get through, but please, don't keep me in suspense. Has something happened to Max?"

Terry tried to find a way to avoid panicking her without sounding like he was beating around the bush. "Max is alive, but he's in hospital. He's had a heart attack…"

"A heart attack? Max? There must be some sort of mistake. My brother's always kept fit, and our oldies are so tough you practically have to shoot them to kill them off. Are you sure you have the right Max Carter?"

"Is your brother a police officer and does he work at Sun Hill police station?" asked Terry.

"He's a police officer, yes, but I have no idea where he works now. You see, I haven't spoken to my family for some time."

"Sorry, Alexandra, I didn't know…"

"Please don't call me that. Call me Lexie. No one but my mother has ever called me Alexandra."

"Okay then, Lexie, the bottom line is that Max has had a heart attack because he's a cocaine addict."

Terry paused to see if there would be any kind of fireworks. There weren't.

"Yep, that would be like my brother – thinking he's bullet-proof. Can you explain to me, um, Terry, why men have this need to prove what tough guys they are? Is it just what happens when they find out the rest of the world doesn't think they're as wonderful as their mummies always told them they were?"

Terry was beginning to think that perhaps this Alexandra belonged to an entirely different Carter clan altogether. "From my experience of Max's mother, she doesn't seem the type to..."

Alexandra snorted. "So, you've met Mama, have you? I can imagine how it might look to you, but let me tell you something, life as my mother's son is a hell of a lot easier than life was as my mother's daughter!"

"Actually, your mother refuses to have anything to do with Max."

"Hmm, now, why doesn't that surprise me? So, you're ringing me because there's no one else to nurse him, then?"

"Well, there is Millie…"

"Millie? Who's that?"

"Oh, er, Max and she have a baby together…"

"Ah, yes, her. I did hear I was an auntie from my cousin. Neither my brother or my mother felt the need to tell me, of course. You know, the way he's sprayed his seed around, it's a miracle he hasn't been trapped before. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if he had the heart attack just to escape this Millie's clutches."

Terry thought it best not to proffer an opinion on that. Another more urgent issue was playing on his mind. The way Alexandra was talking about Max made it sound like they hardly had a relationship at all. "If you don't mind me saying, Miss Carter, you don't seem to be very fond of your brother."

"Firstly, I am not 'Miss Carter'. While it's true I'm not married, it's not relevant to this conversation. If you have to be formal, Detective Constable, call me 'Ms'. Secondly, let me tell you this," Max's sister's voice cracked slightly, like she was choking back tears. "I know my brother's faults all too well. I myself have been the victim of them at times. But despite this there is no one on this earth I love more than my little brother. There never will be."

Terry found the forcefulness of her words strangely distasteful. Max's sister was obviously an unusual woman - hell, they were a strange family - but was it normal to claim to feel that strongly about a sibling? He couldn't think of anything to say, which, it turned out, didn't really matter as Lexie kept talking.

"I know, I just get through telling you how I don't speak to my family, Max included, and, well, he didn't do the brotherly thing and stop speaking to our mother when she stopped speaking to me; but he and I, we have a special bond because…well never mind that. Tell me, is he conscious?"

"No, not last time I saw him."

"Right, well when you see him next tell him Lex is on her way, in fact she's on the first plane she can get a seat on, and she'll be with him soon. Even if he's in a coma, I bet he'll react to that. You'll see."

Terry had no doubt she was right. But he had to wonder if that reaction would be as positive as Lexie seemed to think. This was, after all, a sister with whom Max had not been in contact for several years, whom he didn't even bother to call when he became a father. Terry was getting a horrible feeling that Lexie was basically a younger version of her mother, with strong opinions and prejudices. And he was seriously beginning to doubt that finding Max's sister was going to be the boon to Max's recovery he had intended…

(ii)

It had escaped nobody's attention that the door to Superintendent Jack Meadows's office had been shut for a long time. It was no mystery as to why. The news of what had befallen DS Carter had spread through Sun Hill Station like wild fire. It was discussed in the area cars and over teas and coffees in the canteen. Everyone, it seemed, had an opinion on the subject. The majority felt Max had brought it on himself and had no sympathy whatsoever for the consequences in terms of his health or his career. Then there were those few who, like Terry, hoped that the experience would make Max 'a better person'. But ultimately everyone knew that only two opinions on the topic really mattered, and they were those of the two men cloistered behind that closed door: the Super and the DI.

Jack Meadows sat at his desk staring intently at his hands, which were clasped on his desk in front of him. He was aiming to calm himself so that he wouldn't resort to taking out his anger on Neil. That Max's habit had gone undetected by his immediate supervisor just seemed incredible to Jack. But how could he have a go at Neil when he himself hadn't noticed what was going on either? What did it say about him, Neil and his whole damn team of detectives that a habit that was bad enough to kill had gone unnoticed? It was true that Max Carter had always had a frenetic energy about him that many people would have trouble differentiating from a cocaine high, but that was really no excuse. Heads were very likely to roll over this one, and he and Neil needed to co-operate to work out how to prevent this kind of fallout.

"So," Jack began in his typical gruff manner. "First things first. What's the latest on Max?"

"They've stabilised him, but they're not giving any guarantees. It was what they'd define as a 'major heart attack' apparently."

"Caused, most likely, by excessive cocaine use?"

"Yes," replied Neil simply.

"Do we have any idea how long this was going on?"

Neil gulped, "Apparently for over a year."

"Over a year?" The hands on the desk clenched. "And no one noticed anything?"

"Not exactly," Neil muttered under his breath.

"What? What are you saying?"

"Just that a couple of his workmates found out and tried to pressure him to do the right thing..."

"They should have reported him!"

"Of course, they should have, but..."

Jack cut him off. "We'll deal with them later. But how about you? Didn't you notice anything?"

"I suppose there were certain changes in his behaviour," admitted Neil. "His relationships with people deteriorated. He became less tolerant, a bit more restless..."

"But Max was always like that anyway, wasn't he? Impatient. Hard to get along with."

"That's the problem. The only difference in his behaviour was that it seemed to be exaggerated."

"Unbelievable." Jack muttered as he ran his hand across his mouth and chin, then rubbed his eyes. "Right," he continued, "That's the end of Max's career then. Isn't it?"

Jack deliberately finished with a question. He was angling for Neil to offer him an opinion, not just report facts.

Neil, meanwhile, was leaning half-seated against the Super's desk, hand thrust deep in his pockets, gazing at either his shoes or the floor. He raised his head just long enough to reply: "Is it?"

Jack studied Neil's face long after the latter's own gaze had dropped again. His hesitancy to sound the death knell on Max's career intrigued Jack. He knew that Neil had a close friendship with Millie Brown, and that Max was the father of Millie's child. Surely this would result in friction between the two men? Professionally too, Neil had reason to resent Max, who had taken on a rather heavy-handed leadership role while Neil was preoccupied by his son's illness. So why wasn't Neil jumping at the opportunity to smite his rival once and for all?

"I would have thought so," answered Jack. "But you don't agree?"

"It's not that I disagree, but rather I think it's a more complex issue than that."

"Really? How so? From what I see, one of our senior officers habitually took drugs, not only endangering himself and anyone else who worked with him, but breaking god knows how many laws into the bargain. You can't possibly be suggesting we ignore this behaviour?"

"I'm suggesting no such thing," retorted Neil. "We can't actually ignore it, can we? Even if we reinstate him, he's hardly likely to be back on the beat in the foreseeable future. He wouldn't be physically up to it."

"All right then, maybe 'ignoring' was the wrong word. But considering what Max has done, what other outcomes could you reasonably suggest? I have higher powers to answer to here, you know. If I'm going to recommend to them that DS Carter be given a second chance, I'll need to have a bloody good reason!"

Neil raised his head and stared at the wall opposite him. Why, he asked himself, was he bothering to put forward a case in defence of Max Carter, of all people? Philippa's influence perhaps? The belief that everybody was innately entitled to a fair trial and a thorough and impartial assessment of their case?

"I think sacking Max at this point would be pretty meaningless. Max's own body has given him a wake up call no reprimand from us could ever deliver. And it's not just Max we have to consider. He has a young son."

A sly smile curved onto Jack's mouth. "And his son has a mother."

"Yes, we have to consider Millie too," agreed Neil testily. "How is she going to cope bringing up Andrew if Max can't be a supportive father?"

"Like any other single mother with a stable job, and _very_ supportive friends, I would imagine. She and the boy would get by."

"I see. Is that the best we can offer the dependents of our fallen officers then? Enough to 'get by'? Tell me, Sir, if something had happened to you while your children were Andrew's age, would you have been satisfied that your wife and children were offered simply enough to 'get by'?"

"But I was never a drug addict," replied Jack calmly.

"No, but be honest, Sir, are your record and character are stainless? You never bent the rules slightly? I know what you're going to say, Jack. You're going to say that nothing you ever did interfered with your job. But, you know, when I think about it, I'd be hard pressed to think of a time that Max's addiction ever affected his work. I don't like his methods. His team and communications skills are abysmal, but he's still a very efficient officer."

Jack's fingers massaged his eyes again. "You know, I'd have to agree. I've been going through Max's record, and I've been struggling to find much in it to condemn him with, apart from the incidents that got him transfered from CO19 of course. Even on drugs, it appears, Max got results."

Neil nodded. "As incongruous as the words 'Max' and 'team' are, I think it's fair to say Max was an asset to CID."

At this point, the two men paused. Jack put his hands behind his head and leant back in his chair, apparently to mull over what had been said. He stole a glance at Neil, who was chewing on his lip as if he too were working through some train of thought.

"Anything else to add, Neil?" Jack prompted.

Neil did have more to say. But before he spoke he was once again asking himself why, despite having come to Jack today revelling in the thought that he might play a part in ensuring Max Carter got his comeuppance, when it came down to it, he couldn't go through with it. He really wished he didn't feel morally obliged to speak in Max's defence, but for whatever reason, he did. At least, he thought, Grace and Pippa would admire him for it. And Millie too would be grateful - not that that mattered anymore.

"Just one more point, Guv. We've talked about what Max means to our team, but what about what it means to Max? I worry what sort of an impact losing his job could have on Max personally. From what I can see, there are two things in the world that really matter to him. His son we've already discussed, but the next most important thing appears to be his career. And I think I know what Max would do if he were left without that."

"What's that?"

"I think he'd give up on life. His career gives him structure and purpose. Without them, I think he'd fall quickly back into bad habits and turn to cocaine again."

Jack scratched his chin and nodded, before saying, "I can see that's likely, but surely if he lost his job, or even his relationship with his son because of this, it would be all his own fault, not ours..."

"That's true, Sir, but isn't our official line on drug addiction that it's an illness? If so, then don't we, as Max's superiors, have a duty of care to him to help him through this, rather than just effectively throwing him to the wolves?"

Jack pondered this last point. He really hadn't expected Neil to come out so strongly on Max's side. He'd given him a lot to consider.

Eventually he said, "You know, Neil, you surprise me. I never thought you liked Max.?"

Neil answered honestly. "I don't."

Jack smiled. "And that's why, even though I would have thought Max's career was a lost cause, I'm giving serious consideration to all you've just said. If even his worst enemy..."

"I'm hardly that, Sir!"

"... can think up arguments to reinstate him, well then, maybe I'd best take note. Now, enough of worrying about Max's son, it's high time you went home to your own."

Jack reclined back in his chair and waved a hand at the door. Neil took his cue.

"Guv," he muttered, and then he left.

(iii)

Neil closed the door behind the babysitter, went into the sitting room and collapsed onto the sofa. Although the odour of the dinner being kept warm in the oven was tantalising, he simply didn't have the energy to feed himself right now. Jake had eaten with the sitter some time ago, so Neil thought he might as well leave his own meal until Grace arrived. She had said she had an errand to run, but Neil knew full well she had driven to St. Hugh's to collect Millie and Andrew. Neil pictured the two women sitting in Millie's kitchen, drinking tea together. Neil thought about all the happy hours he and Millie had spent over a cuppa and smiled sadly. It was something they were never likely to share again.

Jake shuffled into the room in his pyjamas and slippers. It was past his bedtime, but he had not yet got to sleep. Dad usually called him personally when he knew he was going to be late home, and tonight when no call had been forthcoming, Jake had been worried.

"Where's Grace?" he asked.

"She's at Millie's."

"Why aren't you with them?" Jake didn't think it odd the two women were together without his dad, but he felt a bit prickly towards his father and wanted to rub it in that Neil hadn't been included.

Neil sighed and patted the space beside him on the sofa. "Jake, come sit down here next to me. I have something to tell you."

Jake scratched his still patchy head of hair, and sat down beside his father.

"Did something happen between you and Grace? Did you split up?" It wasn't that Jake didn't like Grace, but if there were any small hope that perhaps Dad and Millie…

"No, no, Grace and I are fine. Let me tell you what's happened from the beginning, okay? Today at work Max had a heart attack…"

"Did he die?"

Neil thought he could detect a very inappropriate hopeful tone to Jake's question. He wondered whether or not a scolding were in order, but decided not to bother. The news he would never see Millie and Andrew again was probably enough for the boy for one evening. "No, he seems to have pulled through, though anything could happen still I suppose. Anyway, the point is that Grace and I went to tell Millie about it, and Millie told me something I didn't know…"

"About Max?"

"Hmm, in a way. About her and Max…"

"What did she say, Dad?"

Neil had been asking himself how much of the story it was necessary to tell Jake. Did he need to be told about Millie's drug use? Neil decided no, he needn't.

"I can't tell you exactly, but let's just say it's changed everything between her and me."

Jake frowned. "Meaning what?" he asked.

"Meaning that you and I can't be friends with her any more."

The frown deepened. "What about Andrew?"

"I think it's best that we don't see him either." Neil felt his conscience twinge as he uttered those words.

Jake sullenly tried to take in what his father had just said. No more Millie in his life. No more Andrew either. He could hardly imagine what it would be like, they were so central to his world. But wasn't this what always happened? Adults fought, and children were always caught in the middle, either taken away or forbidden to talk to people they loved for all those stupid grown up reasons. It simply wasn't fair. He wanted to be angry at his dad, but underneath that, he knew who was really to blame for this. It was that Max. Max ruined everything for Jake, on purpose most of the time too. Jake hated Max. And yet, apparently, Millie had chosen Max over his dad...

"You all right, son?" asked Neil gently.

Jake nodded. Neil's hand moved across to touch him.

"Jake, pet. I know how much Millie and Andrew mean to you. I hate to do this, but I…"

Jake stood abruptly.

"I think I'll go to bed now. It's late and I'm tired," he said.

Neil could see it was best to leave it at that for the night. "Okay then, son. Good night." Jake allowed his cheek to be kissed, then he slunk off to his room.

Neil fell back on the sofa again. So, that was Andrew, Millie and now Jake he'd let down in the space of 24 hours. Neil had always suspected he had a talent for disappointing people. But, he thought bitterly, so many in the one day was very likely to be some sort of record.


	19. Another Morning After

(i)

It was barely light when Neil was woken by someone moving around his bedroom. His hand fumbled across the bed and found the other side of it was vacant.

"Grace! What are you doing?" he mumbled sleepily. "Come back to bed. We don't need to be at work for a while yet,"

Grace whispered back, "Sorry, Neil, but I promised Millie I'd collect her and Andrew before work to take them to visit Max again."

Neil groaned to himself. Naturally enough, he didn't like the idea of Grace siding with Millie over him, but he knew Grace would think it was unreasonable of him to complain. So, to keep the peace, he endeavoured to make it seem like any concerns he had about it were regarding Grace's own welfare. "But, darling, you were with Millie until all hours last night. It's unfair of her to ask you to be back on duty so soon."

"Who says she asked me? I offered. And, need I say it? Pot, kettle, black!"

Neil rolled over to shift himself to the side of the bed beside which Grace stood. He managed to lay hold of her still untucked shirt in an attempt to secure her.

"I didn't often spend time with Millie at this time of the morning. Anyway, I doubt even she and Andrew will be up so early."

"Probably not, but I've realised I've left something I need today at home, so I'm going to have to call in there on my way."

Neil relinquished the shirt-tail reluctantly. "So, I'm fighting a losing battle then?"

Grace leant over the bed to kiss him. "I'm afraid you are. I'll see you later at Sun Hill."

"Okay, darling," said Neil resignedly. He craned his neck so that his lips could reach hers. "And make sure you're not late, DC Dasari, or there will be trouble!"

Grace responded by slapping Neil's blanketed bum before she tip-toed towards the door, hoping to make a silent exit.

Neil rolled over again and buried his head in the pillow. All the traumas of the days before had been so completely forgotten while his body had been blessed with the oblivion of sleep. And sleep had come so readily to him. His exhaustion last night had meant that he surrendered to slumber the moment he rolled away from Grace after delivering her good night kiss. His sleep had remained sound right up until he was roused by Grace's preparations to leave. And now he had been woken, he dreaded where his thoughts might lead him.

He heard a tapping on the bedroom door and it opened to reveal a dishevelled Jake, appearing very much as he had last night after Neil had arrived home, minus the slippers.

"Was that Grace I heard leaving?" he yawned.

"Yes, it was. But what are you doing up? It's not even light." Neil threw back the covers. "Here. Do you want to hop in?"

Jake nodded and climbed into bed beside his father, who flung the bedclothes back over them both, making sure no parts of his boy were left exposed to the early morning chill. They both rolled onto their backs and stared up at the ceiling.

"You haven't fought with Grace over Millie, have you?"

Maybe it was because he was still half asleep, but Neil thought he detected a troubled note to Jake's question. Although seeing his son in any way upset distressed him, it did please him to think that Jake could worry about losing Grace. He knew Jake had grown to like Grace, but this indicated his acceptance of her went deeper than that. This interpretation of Jake's feelings he much preferred to the other more obvious one, which was that Jake feared seeing another adult relationship crumbling before his eyes.

"No," Neil reassured him. "She just had to go home before work."

"Oh, right." replied Jake, trying to sound like he hadn't really cared in the first place.

They lay there for a few minutes, neither of them speaking, until Jake asked:

"Are you okay about her seeing Millie?"

Neil sighed. He hoped he was awake enough to deal with Jake's question with the necessary sensitivity. "Not much I can do about it, Jake. Grace is an adult. I can't tell her who she can and can't see."

Damn! He'd set himself up there for an argument about how unfair it was that adults could do what they wanted and kids had to do what they were told. But luckily no such argument arose, as Jake was preoccupied with another matter.

"I've been thinking about what you said last night about not seeing Millie and Andrew."

This was another topic Neil didn't especially want to discuss in the wee small hours, but what could he do? "And?"

"And I think I don't want to talk to Millie anymore either."

This was a complete surprise. Since when had Jake ever sided with him over Millie? Neil was chuffed by what he liked to see as Jake's sense of loyalty to his father.

"I really think it's for the best," Neil replied. He noticed Jake stifling a yawn, and then it occurred to him that it was highly irregular for his son to be awake at this hour to notice early morning departures.

"You haven't been lying awake thinking about this all night, have you?"

When Jake didn't say anything, his father knew he'd hit the mark. Neil felt guilty for being the cause of Jake's insomnia.

"You must be very tired, then, son," he said gently.

"Yeah, I am a bit," agreed Jake as best he could through yet another yawn.

Neil raised his head to look at the clock. If Jake were to go to school today, he would have to be up in a little over an hour. And that was certainly not enough sleep to get a boy like Jake, who was vulnerable health-wise, through a whole day of school.

"I think perhaps you should stay home today," Neil announced.

"Well, I don't really feel up to school. But who's going to look after me?"

That was a good question. Neil had forgotten that the ordinarily ever-available Millie was no longer an option. Then he had another idea.

"What say I stay home with you?"

Feeling securely camouflaged by the darkness, Jake smiled. "Can you, Dad? Don't you have to be at work?"

"Where's the joy in being the boss if you can't have a day off every now and again?" asked Neil. "It should be fine for one day. I'll ring in when we wake up. Because, I don't know about you, but I could use an hour or more of a sleep in."

"Me too," replied Jake. He rolled onto his stomach and snuggled in. And within minutes his father heard his breathing regulate to a gentle snore. And, rather than agonise over certain unpleasant thoughts in those white hours of the morning, Neil soon fell asleep beside him.

(ii)

The doctor made it clear he didn't think much of patients like Max who took up the valuable time of medical professionals with their self-inflicted maladies. There were people with the most horrendous diseases and suffering thrust upon them by fate to whom he and his colleagues could be turning their attention. And anyway, Max didn't need the doctor's curt and disapproving explanation of what had caused his heart to fail. He knew only too well it was his addiction. When he had first regained consciousness, he swore to himself that he would never go near cocaine again. But as time wore on and the symptoms of withdrawal took hold, he became less steadfast in this resolution. There were certain ills he had that he knew that only a hit would cure. But the reality was he could barely even sit up without support, so even if he wanted to, he couldn't go out and score. It was humiliating, but he had to accept that he wasn't even in control of his own body, let alone his comings and goings. His only escape from the despair these thoughts brought was sleep, and this was fast becoming his preferred state of being.

His first night in hospital was spent drifting in and out. He had dozed off again the following morning just before Millie arrived with Andrew. Millie would have let him remain sleeping, but Andrew had different ideas. He hadn't received as much attention from his father in the last twenty-four hours as that to which he was now accustomed, and felt that this should be remedied immediately. When his mother lifted the struggling child from him pram in an effort to pacify him he started to reach out for Max, then start sobbing when his mother restrained him.

Max peeled open an eye and glanced up to see Millie trying to calm a very agitated Andrew.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Don't be. I'm glad you're both here," Max raised a limp hand and made contact with the easiest bit of Millie for him to reach, which was her hip. Balancing Andrew on her other hip, she took Max's hand in her own. She was about to say something when Andrew's cries began to escalate.

"Perhaps I'd better take him out," she suggested.

"What for?" asked Max. "Is something wrong with him?"

"I think he's just excited to see you."

Hearing this raised Max slightly out of his doldrums. "Well, I'm excited to see you too, Andrew," he said, opening his arms. "Do you want to come hug Daddy?"

"You sure this is okay?" fretted Millie. "He might pull out a tube or something. Are you sure you're strong enough to hold him?"

Max rifled under his pillow and retrieved a remote switch. His bed slowly rose into a slightly more upright position.

"Prop him up here," he instructed Millie.

Millie placed Andrew beside Max, who wrapped an arm around the gleefully giggling child. How he loved this kid, and how close he had come to being absent from his life forever. Gently brushing a red-golden ringlet from his boy's forehead, Max made a silent vow to never let something like this happen again. No matter how much he might be tempted, he had to stay on the straight and narrow so he could always be around for his son.

He grabbed one of Andrew's little pink fists and kissed it. "Daddy missed you," he murmured.

Millie, meanwhile, stood back and watched. It made her so happy to see the two people responsible for the greatest moments of joy and sorrow in her life expressing the love they had for each other through play. But she couldn't help but feel excluded too. Being strong for Andrew had been the only thing that had kept her going through this last day, and seeing he had no need for her now, she didn't quite know what to do. She meekly made her way over to a chair under the window and sat down.

Max saw Millie retreating and it troubled him.

"What are you doing over there?" he protested.

"I thought I'd let you and Andrew have a bit of time by yourselves. I didn't want to get in the way."

"What do you mean 'get in the way'? This family is the three of us together, so you'd better come back. Andrew and I need you."

Millie obediently rose and sat herself on the bed beside her son and his father.

"Now, come closer," ordered Max, beckoning Millie to bring her face within kissable distance from him. She moved in towards him and the lips united in a single, gentle, yet lingering kiss.

Millie pulled slowly away and touched Max's face with her hand, tears dancing on her eyelashes. "I'm so glad you didn't die," she uttered breathlessly.

"Me too," Max whispered back as he put his hand over the one on his face.

Neither of them knew what to say next. Much to their mutual relief, the focus was taken away from this interaction by their son, who reminded his neglectful parents of his presence by grabbing hold of a loose lock of Millie's hair and pulling it sharply. The awkwardness turned into laughter and as a consequence, any other sentiments they may have wanted to express right then were going to have to keep for another day. And, with what was perhaps a foolish optimism, neither Max nor Millie doubted for second that 'another day' would come.


	20. A Blast From The Past

(i)

Millie and Grace were walking behind Andrew's pram along the long corridor out of St. Hugh's when Grace paused and sniffed the air.

"Um, Millie, can you smell something?"

"Yes, I can," agreed Millie. "And I think I know where it's coming from." She bent down over Andrew and inhaled. "Phewww! Andrew! I think I'd better change you before we leave."

"You'll get no argument from me there," responded Grace. "That's an odour I don't want introduced to my car!"

Millie glanced around her. "I think the loo over there has a change room. Do you want to come with us?"

"Actually, I think I'll be fine here."

Millie stuck out her tongue as she headed off towards the restrooms.

"Coward!" she called back at Grace.

Grace smiled to herself as she searched for a wall to lean against while she waited. Millie might call her a coward for not wanting to change what was definitely going to be a very unpleasant nappy, but Grace believed her nurturing and maternal skills had had a pretty good work out over the last couple of days. Between patiently tolerating Neil and Jake's sulkiness and comforting Millie and organising the logistics of her and Andrew's visits to see Max, Grace felt she'd done very little else since Max's heart attack but play babysitter. And she was beginning to feel the strain of it. Initially her main concern was that by supporting Millie, she might alienate Neil, but after spending time with Neil and Jake today, serious alarm bells had started ringing in her head. What did it say about Neil that he was reacting like this? Was he really that intolerant a person? Or was he resentful because he was still harbouring feelings for Millie? Grace wished she had someone to talk to to help her make sense of her feelings. It was true that Millie was fast becoming a close friend, but Millie would probably end up feeling guilty and blame herself if Grace confided her doubts about Neil to her. If only there were someone else around to offer her a rational perspective...

Grace could hardly believe her luck when the very person whose opinion she felt she could most trust on this matter rounded the corner and headed towards the hospital exit. Jo Master moved along briskly without noticing Grace. The fact that she was dressed in her uniform led Grace to the conclusion that Jo's reason for being at St. Hugh's was work related, hence her officious manner.

"Jo!" Grace called.

Jo halted her march and smiled at the sound of this very familiar voice. On laying eyes on Grace, she identified straight away that Grace had something on her mind. And she could make a fair guess just what that might be, thanks to ever-churning Sun Hill gossip mill.

"Hey stranger," she said. "I presume you're here with Millie."

"Yes, she's been visiting Max," Grace replied. "She's just making a pit stop to change a nappy."

No explanation of why Grace was waiting there rather than helping Millie was needed for Jo. One of the many things that bound them as friends was that their lives had focused on career rather than family.

"Say no more," responded Jo, waving a hand to indicate she wanted to be spared the gory details. "Anyway, how is Max? It did cross my mind that perhaps I should visit him while I was here, but somehow I couldn't be bothered. It's a bit hard to feel sorry for him, you know what I mean?"

"I do know what you mean," agreed Grace. "But in many ways I feel nothing but sorry for him. He's really made a mess of everything, hasn't he? He's risked everything that's ever mattered to him, for what?"

"Typical bloke, not appreciating when he's on a good thing. Speaking of which, what's this I hear about Neil not talking to Millie?"

Grace was torn between gratitude for Jo's candidness in raising the very topic she was aching to discuss and a feeling of annoyance that Neil was the subject of station gossip.

"News travels fast," she replied frigidly.

Jo started to back-peddle, "Sorry, have I got it wrong? I didn't mean to..."

Grace relented, "No, no, it's okay. I don't know why I was being so defensive. Yes, it's true. Neil's not talking to Millie, and I'm playing double agent because as you can see, I'm still friends with Millie."

"A double agent eh? Bet that's not as romantic as it sounds. How's that affecting things with you and Neil?"

Grace looked at Jo and shook her head.

Jo jolted her gently with her elbow. "Come on! Dish! I can tell you want to!"

Grace required no further invitation.

"Oh Jo, it's driving me crazy! Before coming here to get Millie I dropped in on Neil and Jake. They'd spent the day at home, apparently doing little other than hating Millie together. Jake was as nice as pie to me, I think because all of this has finally made him surrender that last hope that Millie and Neil would get together. Neil was nice as well, but I could tell that really he's feeling quietly betrayed by me."

"And how's it going with Millie?"

Grace shook her head. "Poor Millie. Each time I speak to her, she's telling me that she'd understand if I had to stop being friends with her if it jeopardised my relationship with Neil. I much prefer Millie's openness to Neil's unspoken sulkiness, but one does get weary of having to reassure someone time and time again."

"And I bet it's not only reassurance Millie needs. She must be gutted about Max."

The extent to which Max's condition affected Millie might have concerned Jo more had Grace disclosed the actual status of their relationship. But she was faithful to her promise of maintaining secrecy about this to Millie.

"She is," replied Grace. "She's worried about his health, she's worried about his job and most of all she's worried about the effect of this on Andrew. Any second thoughts I have about supporting her because of Neil evaporate into thin air when I see the weight Millie's struggling under. And, bugger it, I love Neil and all, but when I think about all that Millie's invested in Jake and Neil in the course of their friendship! He really should be rather more supportive of her."

"Why exactly won't he talk to her?" asked Jo.

"I'll just say it had to do with Millie neglecting to mention something about her relationship with Max in the past to Neil. I personally didn't think it warranted so strong a reaction, but…"

"But that's the Neil you know and love?"

"Something like that."

"And how is young Jake coping?"

"Surprisingly, he's behind his father 100%. To the extent that he spent most of the day removing all the photos they had of Millie and Andrew and replacing them with others, including some with me in them. And once he'd done that, he asked Neil if he should delete all the pictures of Millie he had on his computer."

"Oh dear! What did Neil say?"

"He said, 'If you think so, son'."

Jo laughed heartily, not so much at what Neil had said but at Grace's solemn expression and rather shaky impression of Neil's northern intonations.

"And did he delete them?"

"I couldn't let him do that. I said that before he deleted anything I wanted to take copies."

"Very wise. I hope you don't mind my saying this but I think Neil's reaction is a bit childish."

Grace sighed, "I can't argue with you there. I have to admit this whole experience is exposing me to a side of Neil I'm not too comfortable with."

Jo put a hand on Grace's shoulder. Grace looked up at her. "It's so good to talk to you about this, Jo," she said.

Jo was about to respond when they were interrupted by the arrival of Terry, accompanied by a woman Grace didn't recognise. Jo, however, had the stunned expression of someone who had just seem a ghost.

"Jo Masters! Is that you?" said the woman.

Jo forced a smile and said blankly, "Lexie. Hi. How are you?"

"I'm good. Well, not so good at the moment, actually. I'm here to visit my brother. He's had a heart attack."

"Of course, you're Max's sister. Lexie _Carter. _Should have made the connection."

"So you work with Max? What a small world! If we'd kept seeing each other for a little longer, perhaps you would have met him back then."

Terry and Grace were looking back and forth between the two women as if watching a tennis match. After Lexie's thinly veiled dig at Jo, they concluded that Jo had been the one who had ended whatever had happened between them.

"Anyway," continued Lexie. "I'd better get to my brother. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Sure," smiled Jo insincerely.

Lexie, however, didn't pick up on the insincerity and winked before she turned to Terry and said, "I can probably make my own way from here, thanks."

"Sure," said Terry.

As Lexie walked away, Terry and Grace pounced on Jo.

"All right, all right! What do you want me to say? I think you can guess what the story is!"

Terry shook his head. "You slept with Max's sister. Unbelievable!"

"Was it more than just..." asked Grace.

"No, well, I didn't think it was. But Lexie...now, there's an intense young lady! You know, I'm beginning to think Max is the well balanced member of his family!"

"Before meeting Lexie and Mrs. Carter I never would have believed that. But now, I'd say you're probably right." agreed Terry.

"So what happened?" asked Grace.

Jo shuffled uncomfortably. "Let's just say that after a week or two it became apparent she had what you might call a sadistic streak…"

"She didn't hurt you, did she?" Terry asked protectively.

Jo scoffed, "Do you really think she'd try anything with me? I can look after myself, you know. It was more what I saw of her attitude to other people. Anyway, I told her I'd met someone else and that was that."

"I could tell she had issues," noted Terry. "She objected when I called her 'Miss'."

Grace and Jo shook their heads. "I must say, that's the first admirable thing I've heard about the woman so far," mused Grace.

"Ah, here comes Millie," said Jo, grateful for the diversion.

"I wonder how she'll get on with 'Ms. Carter'?" said Terry.

Grace defended her new friend. "She'll cope. She's tougher than she looks."

"She'll damn well need to be," muttered Jo.

(ii)

Millie and Andrew hadn't even left the hospital before an exhausted and cocaine-deprived Max was asleep again. After they left the room, Max had reflected briefly on how grateful he was to still be alive before shifting into a more comfortable position and nodding off. Soon afterwards, a nurse had tapped gently on the door, then, on finding him asleep, checked his drip and various machines before tiptoeing towards the door. She was pulling it closed behind her when Lexie approached her.

"Are you here to see Mr. Carter? I'm sorry, but visiting hours are..."

Lexie cut her off. "I'm not just any old visitor. I'm his sister."

"His sister? Yes, he had mentioned you as his next of kin."

"Well here I am," said Lexie impatiently. "Can you tell me how he is?"

"He's holding his own and doing as well as can be expected," the nurse replied curtly. She didn't take kindly to being bullied, but didn't retaliate too much because she was conscious that people in these situations didn't always act in the most courteous of manners. "The doctor will be in at about 730 tomorrow morning to see him again, if you'd like to be there."

"I won't be leaving," Lexie informed her. "I don't suppose you have a camp bed I can use?"

"I'll go find you one," the nurse sighed. She was grateful she was finishing her shift and wouldn't have to deal with this unpleasant woman again for another day or two.

Lexie didn't even bother to thank the nurse as she pushed her way past her into Max's room. Dragging a chair over to Max's bedside, she sat herself beside him. She looked tenderly at her sleeping brother. How pale and worn he was, and how much older he seemed since she last saw him. That had been over five years ago, when he was still a comparatively young man, barely even in his thirties, enjoying a relatively successful career and the freedom of his bachelorhood. How strange that someone who revelled in his liberation from the oppression of life under his mother's roof would refuse to turn his back on the old lady when she had so utterly rejected her lesbian daughter. It had been like a slap in the face to Lexie. She and Max had always been a team, clinging to each other when they had been at the receiving end of their mother's temper. It wasn't even that he objected to her sexual orientation; he had always known about it and encouraged her to follow her own path. Yet he couldn't not speak to their mother for her sake. Lexie knew he had hoped that he could have a foot in both camps, but to her that was impossible. And so she had severed ties with her family and eventually left the country in the quest of starting a new life by herself.

She had been so angry and hurt by his betrayal, yet as she watched over him as he slept in his hospital bed, the intensity of her love for him came flooding back over her. He was her little brother. So many times in their lives she had taken on the nurturing maternal role that their mother refused to adopt, and she had always viewed him as almost being her child rather than that of her parents. She couldn't stay mad at him. Now that she was back, she told herself she should never leave his side again.

She lifted a hand and softly brushed it against his cheek. It was enough to rouse Max from his sleep. He peered out from beneath his heavy lids, and couldn't quite believe what his eyes were telling him. He tried to convince himself that his imagination had conjured up this phantom from his distant past. But he simply couldn't go back to sleep until he had made sure.

"Tell me that I've dreamed you up," he said to the apparition.

"Oh, Max," muttered Lexie, moving herself forward. "What have you done to yourself?"

Max made a weak, laughing sound. "No, you must be real. Only a Carter woman would throw criticism at you when you're at death's door."

"Tell me you don't deserve a scolding, Max. If you're at death's door, it's your own fault!"

Max was getting sick of being told this. "I know, I know! But you, Lex, why would you care? What are you doing here, anyway?"

"What do you mean what am I doing here? I'm your sister, for fuck's sake. I love you..."

"Love me? You have a fine way of showing it!"

The energy with which Max spat out that last sentence was apparently as much as he could muster, and he sank back onto his pillows. Lexie, however, was not one to let go of an argument she felt she had a right to win so readily.

"How can you say that to me? Don't you remember when we were kids? All those times I stood up for you against Mum? You know full well you were the one who deserted me!"

"How do you work that out? I'm not the one who fled the country without a word!"

Max's protest ended up sounding more pathetic than angry. All the time his sister had been absent for his life he had told himself that she had a right to strike out on her own, that he was completely okay with it. But being face to face with her again after so long a time made him realise just how personally he had taken her going away. He felt as if at any moment his face would screw up into tears, the way it had on those many occasions in their childhood when he had been hurt or frightened and had run to his big sister for protection and comfort. When she had left, there was suddenly no one around he could relate to like that, no one who was always there with her arms open to make it seem to him that together they could make whatever troubles beset them melt away. Until these last few months with Millie, that is. But then, that wasn't the same. Millie didn't know him the way that Lexie did. She hadn't shared with him what Lexie had.

Lexie knew her younger brother well enough to make a guess at what was going on in his head. When she had left, Max had been so swaggeringly youthful, so sure of himself, so strong that it hadn't occurred to her that he still needed her the way he had in childhood. It had been hard for her not to resent the fact that her confident, physically powerful brother hadn't gone into battle for her when she had been the one being attacked by their mother. Seeing him again now it dawned on her that being her protecter simply wasn't the role he played in their relationship. He might be a man at work or for whatever woman was hanging around at the time, but he would always be the little boy for her. And now he was so sick he couldn't even garner the strength to defend himself against her when she accused him. She hadn't lied when she had claimed that she loved him more than anything else in the world. They were together again. That was what mattered.

She shuffled her chair forward and said softly, "I'm sorry, Max. I should have thought about how you'd feel about it. But at the time, it seemed that I had no other option. But I'm here now, and I swear I'm never leaving you again. Does that make up for it?"

Max knew that if he spoke now, he would cry, so he just nodded.

Lexie brushed his cheek. Her eyes fell on the picture of Andrew that sat at Max's bedside. She picked it up for a closer look.

"Is this my nephew? He's gorgeous. But wow, look at hair! I had no idea he was a ginger."

Max looked at the photo she held. "He gets that from his mother," he said fondly.

"Nevermind, he's lovely anyway. I can't wait to meet him. So, you're close to his mother?"

There was an edge to Lexie's question that Max recognised and it made him uneasy. His sister was a jealous woman, and now, so soon after their reunion, was definitely not a good time to let her know there was another woman in his life. "Sort of. I have to be, I suppose. It makes things easier when you share a child."

Lexie put the photo back on the nightstand without saying another word. Max protested too much, she thought to herself. She too decided it might be best to leave the exploration of his feelings for this Millie to another time.

"Speaking of exes," she said, "do you know you work with one of mine? I saw her in the corridor before I came here."

"Really? Who?"

"You know Jo Masters?"

"You slept with Jo?" Max spluttered.

"Uh hu. Right before I fought with Mum."

"Whoa," Max didn't quite know how to react. "Was it serious?"

Lexie shrugged. It hadn't been to Jo, apparently. "Not really," she answered.

"Oh," said Max.

An uncomfortable silence followed. There had once between at time when they would never have een at a loss for words with each other, when there was not a confidence they wouldn't have shared. But things had changed since then, possibly to the extent that they would never be able to reestablish that same degree of closeness. But they both knew they wanted to. Looking over at his sister, Max thought about how badly he wanted, and needed, her back in his life. The ice had to be broken somehow.

"Jo Masters, eh?" he said.

Lexie turned to regard him with a frown.

"Yes," she said defensively. "That's right."

"She's one helluva woman, isn't she?"

Lexie cocked an eyebrow, "What are you getting at?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Max replied innocently. "I just wondered..."

"Wondered what?"

"What it was like."

"What was what like?"

"You know, sleeping with her."

Lexie feigned indignation. If Max hadn't been in such fragile health, she would have been tempted to box his ears. But only in the same playful way that he was goading her. It was almost as if things has returned to the way they had always been between them. But neither they nor anyone else who had the misfortune of coming into their sphere were as yet aware of what the consequences of their reconciliation would be.


End file.
